Harry Potter and the Year of Revelations
by Zelda of Arel
Summary: ON HIATUS New people arrive to school and change Harry's life so much, he could have never imagined it. He also makes many revelations, and great descisions. Everything is different by the end of the year. Better or worse? You decide. This is my version of Harry's
1. Strange Women

**Author's Notes:** I've started this story a long time ago, even before OFTF came out, so the story starts with the 5th year. I left it hat way, because I do need Sirius for the story. I hope those who loved him like me would rejoyce at a story that had him alive. This is now being re-posted as I was writing the story my style changed a lot. For that fact I can be grateful for a ll the people who betad this story throught the years. I do love my characters, so now that I'm finished with the university, I intend to finally complete this story.   
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**Chapter 1: Strange Women**

Harry woke with the biggest smile he'd had on his face in a long time. He looked at his calendar on the wall and was glad to see that he had finally reached the circled date. September 1st. Since he came back to Number 4 Privet Drive, his life had been awful.

During the day Dudley was constantly whining that he was hungry. In school, his diet had been forced on him and he had managed to lose a considerable amount of weight, but it was still not enough. His stomach had decreased as well, but his hunger didn't lessen much. Uncle Vernon had lost weight also, since the whole family was forced on the same food regime. One morning the two of them went out shopping for new clothes. Uncle Vernon came back with a lot of new suits and Dudley with all sorts of attire, plus new computer games. However, no one lost as much as Harry had. Of course, he had more things going for it.

Aside from the diet, another reason for him becoming skinnier than usual, though also growing a bit of muscle, was the greater amount of chores he had during the summer. The summer of 1995 was the hottest since they started taking note of such things. In July an English player fainted at Wimbledon due to the intense sunshine. However, even during the most extreme heat wave Harry was busy outside. What the Dursleys set out this summer for him was to repaint the house, repair the roof and replant the garden. Strangely, Harry didn't mind and Aunt Petunia was astonished that he hardly even stopped to eat. She often told Vernon that Harry was finally showing undeniable signs of madness. It probably filled them with glee to be right after all.

However, why would a fifteen-year-old boy want to do nothing but work all day out in the sun? He could want to get a nice, stable tan, which he did. Or perhaps some muscle tone. After all, girls like muscles and he was just in the right age to want to look good for them. He did get some muscles that were even more noticeable due to his weight-loss. No, that wasn't it either, though he did have two reasons. First, while he was working, the thought of Voldemort being truly back was gone from his mind. He didn't think of the many dangers his loved ones faced because of him. He didn't see Cedric dead before him. The high-pitched voice didn't ring in his ears. Wormtail's silver arm didn't glisten in the darkness. No, those waited for him under the shower, at the table and in his bed. His second reason was that sometimes, when he was really tired, the horrible nightmares didn't come. That was what he was reaching for during the day. Becoming so tired that he wouldn't dream.

When the dreams did come, he woke with a silent scream. He didn't know how, but when he was much smaller, he learned to scream without a sound when he woke up from seeing green flashes. The first time it happened now, he had no idea what to do. As he confessed to himself, he was too scared to go back to dreamland. So he got out his first year potions book and started to read it again. He thought that since the OWLs would take place in his coming year, he could use some revision. Also, it would be boring enough to put him to sleep. In a month he had grown tired of his schoolbooks. He noticed that he was reading much faster than before and had managed to read through all of his first and second year books. He didn't feel like starting the third years, so he wanted to find some other ones to read. In his room there were a few, left there by Dudley, but mostly fairy tale books. One day when Uncle Vernon had taken Dudley to work with him - he wanted to show off his pride and joy in the form of his son -, Harry decided to sneak into his cousin's room and get some books. He went to Dudley's door and looked around. He could hear Aunt Petunia busing herself in the kitchen, preparing dinner. He wondered a bit why it wasn't him doing the cooking that night. He just shrugged it off and went about his business. He slowly, quietly opened the door and went in. He closed it behind him. The room was littered with broken toys, remains of food. Harry wondered how he managed to smuggle food in. Looking around he found in one corner a pile of books. He read the titles. Some were fairy tale books, novels, educational, even schoolbooks. He realised he didn't even know how Dudley was doing on an academic scale. It didn't matter much. He noticed some books on history, a couple of WWII. He remembered that Grindelwald was on the side of the Germans back then. He wondered if any of the Muggle books talked about him. At last he picked up the WWII books, some novels and a couple on dinosaurs.

He didn't have long to wait till he had the occasion to read one of the 'borrowed' books. At 3am he woke up, sweat pouring down his forehead. He reached for the glasses on a table beside him and switched the light on. In the past month he had realised that no one ever woke up at this time of night, so he could use the reading lamp freely. He opened the wardrobe and crunching down looked at the books he had got. He selected one on the WWIIs. He began reading it. Before his mind's eye the events before the war appeared to form a picture and what he learned he found very interesting. He had never learned much of World War II, so he was curious about what actually happened. In the beginning, the British Prime Minister struggled to prevent the disaster, he hoped that there would eventually be no war. However, Hitler used this time to prepare. He built his army quietly, gathering men and equipment. Harry realised that Voldemort would do the same thing. He would lay low for a while, gathering his strength. The thing that Harry had seen him posses was a sort of a body, but it was weak. Also, he would probably devise a plan and recruit new men. Some of the old Death Eaters would have grown children that need to be initiated. Harry wondered if Draco Malfoy would get a dark mark soon. Very likely, he was always enthusiastic about Voldemort's ideas, he would probably enjoy torturing defenceless Muggles. He read on, learning more and more of the war. As the nights passed he learned of how the Jews were killed. The Final Solution. It occurred to him that if Voldemort won he would do the same thing to the Muggle-borns and even the half-bloods. He knew that no matter what Voldemort did, he would want to get through him first. It would be his job to stop the Menace before things went too far. The weight on his shoulders grew with every page he read.

No presents arrived as the clock struck twelve announcing his fifteenth birthday. He looked out the window with anticipation, but nothing. He could have used a cake or two and his stomach rumbled I agreement. However, as he recalled, there had been no owls at all during the summer up to that point, which was odd. He hoped the others were all right. He also longed for some news from the Wizarding world. Eventually, he fell asleep at his desk, his head lying on the table, his glasses slipping below the bridge of his nose. When he woke from his dreamless sleep, he looked around, but there were no hooting owls thrusting packages at him. Hedwig was standing motionless in her cage, her eyes closed, calmly sleeping. He showered and prepared to go down for breakfast when the telephone rang. Uncle Vernon picked it up in the hall and he could hear his every word from the top of the stairs.

"Yes, Vernon Dursley . . . . Harry Potter? Are you one of those weirdoes? . . . . If I don't give it to him you'll turn me into WHAT? . . . . All right. HARRY!"

At this Harry came down the stairs, wondering who would be calling him on the phone.

"It's for you. And didn't I tell you to tell your friends not to call here?! . . . . Oh, take it." He went away grumbling something.

"Hello?" he hesitantly asked, hoping it wasn't bad news.

"Harry? This is Dumbledore," came the voice of the Headmaster from the other end.

"Professor Dumbledore? I didn't know you knew how to use a phone," Harry said in astonishment.

"Of course I do. I'll admit it has taken me several decades, but now I think I have got the hang of it," the Headmaster laughed, "Harry, I'm sorry you didn't get any presents or cards for your birthday, but I had an owl repelling charm put on your house for your safety. Voldemort could try to get you this way."

"Oh, I've been wondering. … What about Hedwig?" he worried that his owl would not be able to return after a hint.

"She can't go over some distance from your house. And about the presents, you'll get everything when you come to Hogwarts."

"What about my Hogwarts letter? The books I have to buy? I could also use some new robes, I've grown a lot. I need to go to Diagon Alley."

"That is out of the question. Diagon Alley would be far too dangerous for you. Your books will be here and on the second day I'll have Madam Malkin or one of her assistants come here to get you new robes. On September 1st a ministry car will pick you up. I'm also pleased to tell you that Miss Granger and you are both prefects as well as Mr. Malfoy. In case you had been wondering, Miss Granger and the Weasley family are all right. So is old Snuffles. He does good work for me with his feathered friend." Professor Dumbledore informed him.

"Thank you professor."

"You're welcome. I'm sorry about these security measures, but they are needed. Well, goodbye for now. . . . . And Harry, it wasn't your fault. . . . . Oh, another thing."

Harry had almost put the receiver down. "Yes?"

"Happy birthday Harry."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

He put it down and closed his eyes, willing the images away. He had aged a hundred years in one day and he wasn't thinking about that day.

Today was different. It was September 1st and he had made everything ready. He was looking forward to seeing Ron and Hermione again. Perhaps he could feel so carefree again as he had before, like when they were playing Exploding Snap. They could laugh. He hadn't laughed for so long, it became difficult for him to believe that he could once. Maybe Madam Pomfrey could give him something for his nightmares. Yes, he couldn't wait to be home again. Fifth year. He only had three more years to go. He wondered briefly what he would call home after that. At 17, he could move out and get his own place, if he lived that long. He glanced at the clock put high up on his wall, as it ticked away the minutes. The ministry car would be there soon. A few days ago before Prof. Dumbledone had rang him again, much to Uncle Vernon's dismay, and informed him that a ministry car would take him to the station for his safety. Just as he thought about it, he heard a car pull to a halt in front of the house. Shortly after that the doorbell rang and Arthur Weasley's voice drifted up to him as he was struggling to get his trunk down.

"Good morning. I'm Arthur Weasley, if you recall. I've come to take Harry to the train."

He heard Uncle Vernon grunt, but he didn't dare say anything in front of a fully trained wizard, especially in view of their last meeting's events.

"HARRY!" he decided to bellow.

"I'll be right down." With a last thud his trunk was down the stairs. It seemed a lot lighter than when he had to take it up. "Good morning Mr. Weasley."

"Good morning Harry, I'll help you with that," with these words he took one of the handles and together they took it out to the car and put it in the boot.

"Do you have anything else?" the elder Weasley inquired.

"Yes, Hedwig."

Harry ran up and quickly got the cage, then they put her in the passenger area of the huge car. They both sat down. Harry had hoped that Ron and Hermione would also come for him. When he asked about it, Mr. Weasley said they would go in another car. The interior of the car was huge, as it was enlarged by magic. It even had a fridge. There were some sandwiches and Harry got a decent breakfast. He remembered that he wouldn't be able to buy much food on the train, because he had little money left from last year. He would need to get some money from his vault through the local Gringotts branch in Hogsmeade. He was full when they arrived to London and in no time he found himself at the station. There they packed his things onto a cart and quickly made their way to Platform 9 3/4.

It was a busy place. Parents were saying goodbye to their kids, some first years were crying, since they'd never been away from home for so long. A chaos of voices rang in Harry's ears, not just human, but owls hooting, cats meowing, toads, what sounds do toads make anyway? Whatever it is, they were making it. As Harry was looking around in search of familiar faces, he suddenly noticed a pair of black eyes watching him. He couldn't see the possessor of those eyes in the crowd clearly, but they seemed to be looking straight into his soul. His heart made a strange leap. However, just as he was trying to get a clear view of the person, a body stood in front of him and hugged him.

"Harry! I've been so worried about you this whole summer! Dumbledore told me you were all right, but I still couldn't relax!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed into his ear.

When she finally released him, he tried to find those eyes again, but they were nowhere to be seen. That was when he noticed the Weasleys and Hermione standing around him. He reddened a bit and welcomed them all. At this Ginny blushed.

"A minute ago you seemed to be miles away, Harry," Hermione said.

"I'll tell you on the train."

"How was your summer Harry?" Molly Weasley asked.

"Fine."

"You seem thinner, taller and more muscular. Quite a change in you. Are you sleeping well? What did those horrid Muggles feed you anyway?" Mrs. Wensley looked at him with concern.

Harry noticed her looking at the dark circles under his eyes. He wondered if those were what the black eyes were looking at, or the scar on his forehead, or simply at the Boy Who Lived.

"No, I don't really, sleep well and Dudley is still on a diet, so not much food either" he answered.

"Well, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey can do something about the sleeping." Hermione added.

"Yes, probably."

"Children, you'd better get on the train, it's leaving in a minute," Arthur Weasley noticed.

At this Molly kissed her children, Hermione and Harry goodbye. They got their trunks on the train. The platform was almost empty and just as they sat down onto their seats the train started its journey to the best Wizarding school in Britain.

"Now Harry, can you tell us what you were staring at on the platform?" Fred inquired, smiling, expecting a certain answer. "Were you looking at Cho Chang?"

Harry reddened again a bit. "No, I noticed someone looking at me."

"Sure people look at you, you're Harry Potter. What was so special about this one?" Ron said, with a bit of irritation in his voice that he sometimes couldn't cloud.

"They were black eyes. When I looked into them I could feel the person not just looking at me, but into me. Into my soul." Harry said, contemplating.

"What did this person look like?" Hermione asked.

"That's also strange. I have no idea. I couldn't really see the person. I can't even tell if it was a boy or a girl."

For a minute they all sat in silence. Harry tried to remember the person more clearly, but couldn't. Was it some sort of a spell?

"Hermione, don't you know of some spell that could cause this? I mean I just can't get those eyes out of my head," he wondered out level.

"Could be. However, I can't remember what. Perhaps tomorrow I could look it up in the library." she suggested.

"I don't know. Perhaps you shouldn't bother."

"Harry, in times like this, it could be important. Someone could want to harm you this way." Hermione put a reassuring hand on his arm.

"I suppose you're right."

Having said this, the discussion came to an end. Nothing could be done till tomorrow. Harry noticed Fred's expression turn into a nasty one and he briefly wondered what was coming.

"Hermione, how was your summer?"

All eyes turned to her, knowing what Fred was referring to.

"Well, it was good." She said, blushing scarlet.

"Oh, you know what we're all thinking about." George taunted her.

"All right, I did go to see Viktor in the summer. I visited him in Bulgaria with my parents. We stayed in their mansion." She briskly rattled off.

"They have a mansion?" Ron asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes, a huge one, with lots of land. I had a great time. They showed us all the sites in Bulgaria, though mostly just the Wizarding sites, not any Muggle ones. Very educational. Viktor has two older sisters and a younger brother. They were all very nice. I have even met the Wizarding king of Bulgaria at a reception."

"A king?" Harry asked.

"Yes, the Wizarding world of Bulgaria has a king. It's a very different country. A lot like medieval Muggle society. They have a king and those who are loyal to him get lands and they get money when they build something for him." She told her audience.

"What is the king like?" Ginny seemed excited about the idea of kings existing in the Wizarding world.

"He is a very nice and well educated man. Though in many respects I don't agree with him. Those who are not in his favour or are not of the nobility don't get any respect and have no chance of better education or making a career." Hermione frowned at the idea of such prejudice.

"Do they have house elves?" Ron wondered.

"Yes they do. When I told Viktor's father that I don't agree with keeping house elves, he patted my head and called me a child!" she seemed very outraged at this.

"So it wasn't that good, was it?" Ron seemed hopeful.

"Some parts of it."

"What about your relationship with Viktor?" Ginny was interested.

"I told him that I'm not ready for a romantic relationship. Viktor is so much older. I often felt that he was too, well, pushy," she reddened at this.

"I hope he didn't do something you didn't want!" Ron was a bit shocked at what he was hearing.

"No, when I drew the lines he kept to them. In the end we became good friends. Nothing more. So I'm planning on writing to him." Hermione reassured them.

Ron still didn't relax. He wasn't too happy about Hermione keeping a contact with Krum.

Harry decided to ask Ron about his summer, in order to change the subject.

"Ron, what about you, how was the summer of the Weasley family at the Burrow?"

"Well, these two," he pointed at his brothers, "kept on planning their enterprise. It seems like they convinced some investor to give them money. I have no idea who could have been so crazy. They were surprisingly successful in keeping their plans hidden from mom. If she had found out, she would have been very mad at them. …. Dad works a lot. He tried to hear anything about You-Know-Who,"

"Oh Ron, don't be chicken, say 'Voldemort'," Hermione chimed in.

Ron gulped.

"V-Vo-Voldemort. So he tried to hear anything about him, but nothing. It seems like he's laying low for now."

"The longer the better," Ginny said.

"I'm not sure," Harry told them. "I read some during the summer. About WWII. When Hitler was preparing, everyone waited, hoping there would be no war. Hitler used this time to build his army. His intentions were clear, he said many times that the German people needed, hmmm, 'Leben's Raum', living space. Perhaps they should have made a move to eliminate him sooner." Harry said about what he's learned during the summer.

"Harry, I'm surprised at you!" Hermione seemed shocked. "You read in the summer something that wasn't set out."

"Well, since I couldn't get the set out reading because I couldn't go shopping, I decided to read some of Dudley's books when I couldn't go to sleep. I simply pulled them out of the stacks of unread books in Dudley's room when he wasn't there. He never noticed they were missing," he shrugged.

"I'm so happy that you did something educational during the summer. I wouldn't be more surprised if you'd say you did some revising as well," Hermione smiled in happiness.

"Actually, I did," he douched his head

At this Hermione's chin dropped open and they all laughed at the silly look on her face. Soon enough she joined them in laughter.

As Harry was laughing, he remembered the hours he spent in his room reading after nightmares, afraid of falling asleep. He just read or studied until he was so sleepy that the second he switched the lamp off he fell into a dreamless slumber.

"How was your summer, Harry?" Ginny sheepishly asked.

"Fine," his bone indicated that he didn't want to elaborate on that.

"You have grown, got some tan." Hermione noticed.

"Yes. I worked outside. I repainted the house, repaired the roof, replanted the garden."

"Wow. That explains how you can look stronger. Great. We can use that in Quidditch. You can get a stronger grip of the handle." Ron was pleased.

Harry looked a bit startled at this. He had forgotten all about Quidditch. His broom lay forgotten in the bottom of his trunk; he hadn't looked at it all summer. As he thought about flying, he couldn't even remember how it was done. The first task in the Tournament seemed ages ago.

"Yes, I suppose," Harry replied, realising they had been waiting for him to add something.

"Is your cousin still on a diet? You seem thinner," Hermione observed.

"Yes. He went away with Uncle Vernon and they both bought new clothes."

"You'll need some as well." She looked down at his trousers that ended well above his ankles.

"Professor Dumbledore said that he'll arrange for Madam Malkin to take measurements of me tomorrow and get me some new clothes."

"Good for you," Ron seemed a bit agitated.

"Anyway, there's a lot to do this year," George turned to some more serious matters. "We need a new captain and a new keeper."

Ron's face brightened. "I'll try out. Won't it be great? I'll be the new keeper."

"Yes, you are a great keeper and you'll probably get in, but we will need to have fair tryouts. We could be surprised. Still, we need a captain first," Harry told his friend.

"I think Harry would be the best man for the job," Fred spoke.

"I-I don't really know. I mean, I'm not even sure what the role of a captain is. I mean, we never did understand much of Oliver's graphs and such. Also, I think we should ask the girls who they think should be captain," Harry blushed at the idea of such a position.

"That's what shows that you are a true leader, you ask the opinion of others and you are not sure if you're the best man for the job." Hermione put in, but no one but Harry really understood what she was saying.

During the summer he sometimes thought of his role in the war with Voldemort. It was clear to him that partly because of his attachment to Voldemort he would play a leading role in the coming events. He didn't want it, but he knew he had no choice.

They chatted a bit more of what the year would bring. The OWLs for one. Hermione began to give a detailed lecture on what the OWLs were about, the intricate revision plan she had drawn up for the three of them and anyone who would care to join their study group. Harry, however, couldn't listen for long. Sleep started to overtake him. Last night he was so full of anticipation, he couldn't sleep, but finished a book he was reading. Now the slow movements of the train and his still filled, digesting stomach made him close his eyes and softly snore into the conversation of the others. They didn't wake him. They had all noticed the dark circles under his eyes from the lack of rest. They even turned down the volume of their talk.

There was a hand on his shoulder and someone was saying his name, Harry realised. His eyes slowly opened and he saw the others looking at him, Hermione's hand still on him.

"Well, hello there. You had quite a sleep. We're almost at Hogwarts," she softly spoke to him.

Harry looked around. The lights had come up, the world was in darkness outside. His stomach was gently grumbling, crying out for food. The others had already put on their robes. So he got up and pulled out his from the trunk. When he put it on, he noticed that it too was considerably shorter, or rather; he was considerably longer than the robe. He shrugged, it would have to do for now.

The train gently pulled to a stop and they all got out, making their way towards the horseless carriages. The night was warm. Harry noticed the usual group of first-years flocking around Hagrid, who nodded towards him. He noticed a girl much taller than the others in the group trying to …a……. her way among the shorter kids. Her long black hair was gently swaying in the wind and it reminded him of the waves of the lake at night. He wanted her to turn around with everything in him. He was focusing his thoughts on wishing her to turn around, when she slowly started to. It was just her head, she seemed to be taking in her surroundings and there it was, her eyes fell just on him, as if she had heard his thoughts. The eyes! It was her! The person with the black eyes was a girl! He tried to get a better look at her, but Hagrid stood in his way as he gently prodded the group towards the boats. Then he heard his name called. He looked towards the sound and there was Ron, Hermione and Ginny waiting for him at a carriage. He ran to them and got on.

"Wondering again, Harry?" Ron smiled.

"I saw the girl with the black eyes again!" he exclaimed.

"So it's a girl?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. She was in the group of first-years. However, she was much taller than the others were. I think she could be older." Harry could barely contain his excitement.

"Then why haven't we seen her before?" Hermione wondered out level.

"I don't know. Maybe she transferred from somewhere." Harry suggested.

The rest of the road was made in silence as they stared at the magnificent site of Hogwarts and maybe some of them wondered about the mysterious girl.

Finally, they could all sit down at the table of Gryffindor house. As Harry looked at the flag above them, his memory took him back to something that Dumbledore told him at the end of the second year as he was looking down at Godric Gryffindor's sword. 'Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry.' He hoped he could be a true Gryffindor in the times that were to come. His other friends, Neville, Dean, everyone were around him, talking, but he was making mindless comments. Then the first years stood in a row in the middle, ready for the sorting. Looking around, Harry realised that while he was sailing the sea of his memories, the hat had already finished its song and was waiting to sort the newcomers. As he looked up at the teacher's table, he noticed that the DADA teacher's chair was empty. He was a bit saddened by this. One of the great surprises was always who the new teacher would be. He hoped it wasn't some Death Eater in disguise again. He realised there had already been two of them in that chair.

The row of first years quickly lessened as they were sorted into their houses. He saw the strange girl standing at the end. She seemed scared. She did look older than the others. She was about his age. And he found her very pretty. Her round face held delicate features. A small, bit upturned nose, curvy, round, pink lips. Her eyes were big, round, and yes, a deep black. Her black hair fell down her shoulders in soft waves. For the first time in his life, Harry really noticed a girl's breast. There were plenty to notice. They stood out like two hills on her chest, round as apples. Harry quickly tore his eyes away, scowling his teenage hormones. She was fidgeting in her stance, her eyes darting around, suddenly coming to rest on someone or something at the Slytherin table, but Harry couldn't see who or what.

Suddenly, just as Professor McGonagall was about to announce the girl's name, the twin doors to the hall burst open. Through them a beautiful woman walked, her long blonde hair glistening in the candlelight as it blazed after her. She wore bright red robes, open, billowing out after her. Her long, tanned, naked legs visible, since she was wearing a very short skirt. The high-heeled red shoes twinkled and clanked as she walked with determined steps. She was like a hurricane as she entered, drawing every eye at her. Her red lips opened to speak and as the view was drawn to her face, people noticed the heavy make-up under her designer glasses.

"Sorry for being late, Albus, but I was held up." Rang her deep, confident voice.

"It's all right, Oya." Dumbledore stood, smiling." Now that you've made such a spectacular entrance, I'm going to introduce you."

"As you wish," she said, sitting down at her place.

Harry noticed that Snape's expression changed as he looked at her. It became softer somehow. Harry looked at him with amazement. He could have never imagined him look like that at anyone. She seemed to realise this and turned to smile a brilliant smile at him.

"Students, this is Oya Potter, your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. She will tell you more about herself during your first class with her."

Potter? At the sound of her name everyone had something to say. McGonagall had to quiet the crowd down to finish the sorting. Harry sat, observing Oya Potter. She seemed familiar and in many respects reminded him of his father. The strong angles of her face, the rather thin lips and the high forehead all reminded him of the pictures Harry had seen. Was she a relative?

"The last new student won't be in the first year, but the fifth." Professor McGonagall called attention to herself. "She was transferred here from Durmstrang. So I call Malfoy, Isabelle."

The strange girl hesitantly walked to the stool and sat on it. The hat was put on her head. Harry heard around him that she must be Draco's relative and most surely would be in Slytherin. Harry was amazed that he could find a Malfoy attractive and he was also amazed at the fact that she didn't look like any of the Malfoys he had seen. As they waited for the hat to say the verdict, they noticed that she seemed to be arguing with it. It seemed like ages until the hat finally spoke up. The slit opened and the Sorting Hat called out …

To be continued…


	2. Friends

**Author's Notes:** Join the mailing list for this story! http://groups. Get updates, see what's going on with my progress. 

**Chapter 2: Friends**

"Gryffindor!"

There was suddenly an astonished silence in the hall. You could literally hear a pin drop. Isabelle didn't move, she just sat there, with the hat still on her head. Professor McGonagall reached out and took it off.

"Miss Malfoy?" she asked, locking into the girl's eyes.

"Y-Yes?" her voice shook. Harry realised that she had a look of absolute terror on her face. Did the thought of being in Gryffindor affect her like that?

"Miss Malfoy, you have been sorted. Go to your house table," Prof. McGonagall told the girl.

"Professor McGonagall, there must be a mistake. I can't be in Gryffindor. Please, let me convince the hat that I belong in Slytherin." Isabelle pleaded with the Head of Gryffindor.

"The hat put you into Gryffindor and there's no room for argument. The Sorting Hat never makes a mistake. Now, go to the table." She pointed with her finger towards the astonished group of Gryffindors, irritation in her voice. Harry was certain that she would start shouting any minute now. Isabelle seemed to realise this as well and ever so slowly she approached the table. She looked around. At the very end there was a free seat, so she walked to that and sat down, pulling herself together as much as possible. Harry noticed tears in her eyes.

"Well, now that we're finally done with the sorting," Dumbledore said, standing up, "let's get on with the feast!" He clapped and the plates filled with food.

For a few minutes everyone just ate, or in Ron's case, stuffed his head with food . Then they started talking about the two strange females that had arrived at school.

"Well, this year is off to a strange start. A Malfoy in our house! She probably put a spell on the hat. I'd be careful if I were you, Harry," Ron told him and his words were punctuated by the bits of half-eaten food that fell out of his mouth.

"She was the girl with the strange eyes," Harry informed them.

"Really? Then that's why you've been watching her," Hermione injected, while glarying at Ron's table manners.

"Yes." Harry bit hi lower lip, contemplating the meaning of his attraction.

"Then I really have to do some research on spells that need eye contact," Hermione put in after swallowing some potatoes. "The odd thing about her is that she doesn't look like a Malfoy. She could be a distant relative of Draco's."

"Probably." Harry chose that moment to look over to the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was visibly watching Isabelle with a dark look. In the mean time, she was turned away from Draco, not touching the food in front of her, shaking like a leaf.

"Harry!" Ron called.

"Hmm yes, what is it?" he tore his gaze away from her.

"Who do you think that Oya Potter could be?" Ron asked, managing to swallow between two words.

"No idea. I didn't know that there are other living Potters."

"If she is a relative of yours. Look how well she's getting on with Snape. He's even smiling at her," the red-head noted.

Harry turned to the teacher's table. There he was, Snape, smiling. It was scarier than Freddy Krueger in " Nightmare On Elm Street". He knew because he had seen the movie during the holidays.

"She does look a lot like dad," Harry noted.

"Yes, she does remind me of you," Hermione said.

"She's blonde," Ron argued.

"That's a spell. No natural blonde has that shade of blonde hair," the girl educated the boys on magical grooming.

"Well, you're the girl," Ron gave up.

They concentrated on finishing their food, the deserts had appeared not long ago. When they were done the plates cleared and Dumbledore stood up.

"As usual, I have to make the necessary announcements. The older students must be very bored by this, so those of you who already know all this can take a short mental holiday. The forest near the castle is forbidden to students. It is very dangerous and I would like all of you to remember that. Especially in these times. Also, no magic in the corridors!" His eyes strayed to Harry and Ron. They did seem to forget this rule quite often. "Also, some new security arrangements have been made. The patrols on the corridors after ten have been made more frequent and even fifth year prefects will have to join it. The schedule will be a subject of discussion during the first prefects' meeting. So those who are planning on sneaking out at night should be more careful," he smiled. "At last, but not least, let's sing the school song! Let's make it a happy tune."

The ribbon came out of Dumbledore's wand once again and formed into words. As they appeared everyone started to sing with bright smiles on their faces.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot."

As they started singing, a strange and magical thing happened. For the first time in the history of Hogwarts the whole school, even the Slytherins, even Fred and George Weasley sang the same tune. It wasn't the tune of any song that Harry recognised. However, when he opened his mouth his voice had a life of his own. When it ended, they all looked at each other. A new and stronger sense of togetherness came over them, filling their souls. They were all dazed and speechless. No one knew what had really happened, but they all felt that it was a too intimate experience to talk about it, even though they have all shared it. Harry looked around and stopped at Oya Potter. She had tears in her eyes that glistened in the chocolate orbs.

"That was wonderful," Dumbledore said. "Now you can all go to bed. The prefects will lead the first years to their dormitories. Good night!"

Harry looked at Hermione who was just pinning her prefect badge on her chest. She looked back at him and took out another badge. He gave her a grateful look and put it in its place. The first years chose that moment to start gathering around them. Harry couldn't see Isabelle Malfoy. She must have gone on her own.

By the time they took care of the new Gryffindors, they were both exhausted.

"Harry, your birthday presents are on your bed," Hermione told him before saying goodnight.

"Thank you," the boy nodded to her.

"I'm sorry I couldn't send it to you, but Dumbledore called me to tell me that he had put an owl repelling charm on your house. I hope your holiday wasn't awfully lonely," Hermione said, regret in her voice.

"It was a bit, but I kept myself occupied," Harry shrugged.

"I didn't want to ask in front of the others, but are you really all right? I mean after all the things that happened…"

"I'm all right," he cut in.

"You seem so tired." Hermione sounded very worried.

"I am, but I'll ask Madam Pomfrey tomorrow for a good sleeping potion," the dark-haired boy informed her.

"Well, I hope it works. Harry, you know that you can talk to me about anything," with those words Hermione reached out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

"I know Hermione. Good night."

"Good night, Harry," she hugged him and he hurried away.

In the fifth year Gryffindor boys' dormitory everyone was quiet. Harry looked at his bed and saw that it had five packages on it. Looking around he decided that he couldn't risk waking the others with the noise he would make. So he gathered the packages up and quietly went out the door. He walked straight to the Common Room and there put everything on the sofa by the fire. He looked around. There wasn't anyone there, the room was deserted. He looked at the presents in front of him. There was a big one, two smaller ones and two medium sized ones. Harry decided to try the big one first. He opened it and found a huge book. On the cover was a big woman walking up and down, the title read "The Giant Book of the Real History of Giants". He found a note next to it.

_Harry, this book is good. The truth. Happy birthday,_

_Hagrid_

Harry understood why Hagrid would want him to read a book about what giants are really like. Upon inspecting the two medium sized presents he realised that they were both books, but one also contained something else. He opened the one with a book only. It was "The Handbook for Quidditch Captains". Another note.

_Harry, I think you will need this year. Happy birthday, Ron_

The other book made him blush. "What Teenage Wizards Need to Know About Themselves and Witches". There was also a necklace next to it with a round white stone hanging from it.

_Harry, I think you'll need this book. I looked through it and it's good. However, I did make some side notes for your benefit. I'm giving it to you because I can't talk to you about these things personally. Use your knowledge wisely, don't let your hormones control you, like I did. The necklace is magical. It glows red if you're near danger. Happy birthday,_

_Snuffles_

He blushed several times as he read the letter. He flipped through the slightly worn book. Sirius had probably carried it around a bit. Inside there was a note almost on every page. 'Some' notes he had said. More like he rewrote the whole book. Some of the pictures made him redden and he decided to take a look at the remaining two packages.

The next one was round and soft. He carefully unwrapped it. Inside was the Marauder's Map with a note.

_Harry, I think you're going to need this. Happy birthday,_

_Dumbledore_

He was very happy to have it back. He smoothed it a bit, thinking about how it had been his father's, Sirius' and Remus'. However, he shuddered when he imagined the three of them looking at it with Wormtail. The same man who would ruin their lives.

There was one more package left. It was obvious that it was from Hermione. He wondered what she would give him. He quickly got it out of the wrappings and found an eyeglasses case. Opening the case he found inside a new pair of glasses. They were much nicer than the ones on him. They looked to be designer glasses. He took off his old pair and put them on. To his surprise he could see much better with them than the others. Of course, he had been thinking of going to the doctor's, because he noticed that his eyes had become worse. He saw a note and read it.

_Dear Harry,_

_When I was in Bulgaria I saw a Quidditch player wearing glasses. I remembered how much trouble you had with yours and always wanting to learn something new, asked him what he did to eliminate the problems that can arise from wearing glasses. Then he told me about special magical glasses. I just had to get you a pair! They always adjust to your eyesight. They don't fog, repel water, turn to sunglasses when it's sunny. They're unbreakable and reflect curses. Also, once you put them on, you can only take them off if you do it by hand. They never fall off. I thought that with all the dangers we face every year, you'd certainly need a pair. I hope you like them! Happy birthday!_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

He was very happy with this present. They would be very useful, or as he heard on TV, dead useful. Hermione always knew how to give very practical presents. Now that he could see more clearly, he looked around the room. By the staircase he noticed a figure, but couldn't make out who it was, because he or she was in the shadows.

"Who's there?" he called out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb you," he heard a small voice, a girl's.

"You didn't, I just wanted to have a look at these. If you can't sleep, come and sit down," he smiled at the unknown figure.

"No, I don't think I should." She stepped into the light and that was when Harry saw who it was. Isabelle Malfoy. She was wearing an emerald green robe with gold lining. It brought out the darkness of her hair and eyes, but also the whiteness of her skin. The garment clung to her body, emphasising her curves. She was unlike anything or anyone he had ever seen and yet, she was strangely familiar. Her eyes had red circles around them, she had obviously been crying.

Harry quickly shoved Sirius' book under a pillow.

"You can," Harry replied.

"Are you sure?" her voice shook, probably from nerves.

"Yes. I don't think I can sleep for now. We could chat." Harry hoped that he could find out more about the mysterious girl that need grabbed his attention.

"You and me?" she seemed baffled by this. "I'm a Malfoy."

Harry would have expected her to say that with pride, like Malfoy, that is, Draco Malfoy always did. However, she said it like it was a crime.

"I don't care. You're also a Gryffindor."

She seemed to be encouraged by this and sat in an armchair by the sofa that Harry was occupying.

"What are these wrappings?" she asked, looking down at the pile by the sofa.

"Birthday presents."

"You have a birthday today?"

"No, but I couldn't get them while I was with my Aunt."

"I see. So you live with your aunt? Is she nice?"

"No, she's horrid. She and her husband always make me do chores around the house and don't care much for me otherwise. Before I found out that I had money, I had to wear my cousin's old clothes, but he was always twice as big as I was, so the clothes always hung on me. I still wear them when I'm at their place, so that they don't know about my money."

"I'm sorry." Strangely enough, she did sound sorry.

"I hope you don't mind the question, but are you Draco Malfoy's relative?"

She seemed to be startled by this.

"Then you never heard about me? I thought everyone knew. Well, of course father does hide me a bit. I'm Draco's twin sister."

Harry looked stunned at this. A dark haired beauty to be Draco Malfoy's twin?

"Well, you don't look like your parents at all."

"I know... Have you met Mother?" She seemed curious to know the answer.

"Yes, at the Quidditch World Cup last year. Why weren't you there?" Harry hung his head to the side, wondering about the answer.

"They never take me out in public. I didn't mind though. Father was very mad about the whole dress-up-like-Muggles thing and I was afraid that something terrible would happen. I was right. On the other hand, it did make Father happy. Even the appearance of the Dark Mark. However, he did say that it was too soon." She gazed into the fire, perhaps contemplating what she had just said.

"Do you know what happened in June?" she seemed to know a lot and Harry thought that maybe she would share valuable information. However, he wanted to be very careful about how he asked her.

"Voldemort returned. I've never seen Father so delighted. Things are looking up for him. You probably want me to tell you about Voldemort." She looked into his eyes then, and Harry felt himself being sucked into those dark orbs again.

"I …," he began, not knowing what to say.

"Don't worry, I would like to tell you something to help you, but Father doesn't like to talk about important things when I'm around."

"You would like to help me?" Harry was amazed. "Are you sure you're a Malfoy?"

"I'm sure. Harry, Father is a horrible and dangerous man and Voldemort is worse. I do want to help," she smiled a little at this.

"How can you talk about your father like that?" It was so strange, Harry suspected a trap.

"It's the truth. I hate deception. I also have my own reasons for speaking about him like that." She looked away, biting her lower lip.

"You acted strangely when the hat told you that you belonged to Gryffindor. Did you argue with it?" Some things were just starting to become clear for Harry.

"Yes. I told it that I belonged in Slytherin, but it said there wasn't anything in me to put me into Slytherin. I don't know what to do."

"Would you rather be with your brother?" Harry thought that maybe she missed him.

"I do like Draco, though he and I used to be a lot closer when we were little. I used to play with him and we were friends. Then Father took him away from me."

"How?"

"Well, …. in many ways. I miss my brother. However, that wasn't why I wanted to be in Slytherin. You see, I'm a Malfoy and all Malfoys belong there. I can't even imagine what my father will do to me once he finds out." She seemed scared at the thought.

There was suddenly such pain in her eyes, that it made Harry shudder.

"Will he hurt you?" Hermione enquired.

"That's the least he'll do. Harry, I don't want to talk about it. Hmmm … What did you get for your birthday?" she looked at the items in front of him.

Harry understood her wish to not talk about the subject any more.

"I got these glasses. They're magical," Harry said, pointing at the ones on his face.

"You had Muggle glasses?" she was startled at the idea.

"Yes. I also got this book from Hagrid," he picked up the mentioned book.

"The half-giant?" she looked at the giant book.

"Yes," he nodded.

"I'm sorry. I hope I didn't offend you. I know that he's a half-giant. I hope I didn't say anything wrong with that."

"No, it's all right. I also got this book." He showed her Ron's present.

"That's nice. I thought you're the Seeker like Draco."

"I am, but we have no captain now, he graduated a year ago. Ron Weasley, my best friend, expects me to be the new captain."

"The red Weasel? Sorry, Draco calls him that. If you do become captain, Draco will be furious, though Father will probably buy him that position too. I wonder when he'll learn that if he gets a position by money and not by earning it, he won't be any good at it."

"It's strange to hear you talk like that." Harry grinned.

"I usually keep my opinion to myself. I hope you won't tell anyone what I said. Or rather, don't tell anyone that we talked."

"Why? You're nice. We could be friends." Harry looked at Isabelle in confusion.

"Friends?" she laughed a little. "Harry, Father would kill me for sure. If he doesn't kill me for being a Gryffindor."

"Do you have other friends?"

"No. I don't have any."

"Not even from Durmstrang?"

"No. Those who wanted to be my friends looked at me as a Malfoy. Father has connections as far as Asia. He's very influential. That's why you should always watch your back. You never know how he and Voldemort would try to hurt you or even kill you."

"Do you know anything about Viktor Krum? I met him last year. He made good friends with Hermione."

"With your Muggle-born friend?" She looked surprised.

"Yes."

"He was a few years ahead of me and I didn't know him very well. However, the people he was usually with … I would be careful about him."

"Hermione and her parents visited him in Bulgaria during the summer," he informed her.

"Bulgarians allowing Muggles among them?" she was flabbergasted.

"Yes. Why are you so surprised?" Harry didn't understand her reaction.

"Well, maybe your friend doesn't know this, but in Bulgaria there's a law against it. They don't even tell Muggle-borns that they're magical."

"Then what do they do with them?"

"They just make sure that they don't do too much harm with their accidental magic. They want to keep their blood pure. Tell me, did Viktor Krum want to be her friend or more?"

"More." He was becoming more suspicious of Viktor Krum with each thing he learned. Perhaps there was something behind his pursuit of Hermione?

"Then there must be more behind it. They think that such mingling with Muggle-borns is disgusting."

"How do you know so much about Bulgarians?"

"I had a few classmates. I have a habit of listening in on other people's conversations," she blushed a bit at this.

There was a bit of silence and Harry decided to ask what he's been wondering about.

"Isabelle, were you looking at me on the platform in London and in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes, I was," she nodded.

"Why?"

"I've heard so much about you, Harry. I wanted to see the person who defied Father and Voldemort. On first look you don't seem so powerful."

"When I looked into your eyes I felt strange." Harry smiled, remembering the feeling.

"That's because when I look into someone's eyes for some time I can make a sort of connection with them. This way I can get a grasp of the person's true self. Like when I look into father's eyes I can feel the coldness of his soul." She shuddered at the memory.

"What did you see in my eyes?" he looked into her dark orbs and could feel himself lock with her. For a minute they just sat there like that in silence.

"I see that you're a very good person Harry. A bit unsure of yourself, but a very powerful wizard. You're clever and intelligent. You care for everyone around you, no matter how well you know them. You are also a lot older than your body. You have been through a lot and it left a mark on you. By this I'm not only referring to the scar on your forehead." She smiled a little at her last remark.

"Thank you," Harry smiled. "All that just from my eyes?"

"Yes. A person's whole being is inside his or her eyes. Harry, it's getting very late. We should both go to sleep," with these words she stood up, ready to leave. "Do you want me to help you with throwing out the wrapping papers or you want to keep them?"

"I always keep them. You're right, we should sleep. Do you want to meet again?" Harry had a pleading look in his eyes.

"It would be nice, but don't tell anyone about it."

"All right. Tomorrow night, same time?" he grinned at her response.

"Ok. Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Isabelle."

She turned back a little as she reached the stairs and smiled at him. He watched as she gracefully glided up the stairs. He gathered his things and went up himself. Strangely enough, he had a good night's sleep.

To be continued… 


	3. Getting Things Done

**Author's Notes:** Join the mailing list for this story! http://groups. Get updates, see what's going on with my progress. 

**Chapter 3: Getting Things Done**

Harry woke after a good night's sleep feeling refreshed. He wondered a bit about why he hadn't had a nightmare, but he thought that it must have been the feeling of security and home that Hogwarts always gave him. Still in his bed, he listened to the sounds around him. The curtains were drawn, so no one could see that he was awake. However, that was useless, because there wasn't anyone else in the room and not a sound came from the direction of the bathroom either. In the silence his thoughts drifted to last night. Isabelle was very beautiful and sweet. He couldn't understand how she could be a member of the Malfoy family.

He jerked himself back to the present. He realised that it was Monday and he hadn't even checked the clock. He stuck his hand out by the curtain to get his glasses from the bedside table. He marvelled for a second at the fact that he didn't need to clean them even a bit. Not even a speck of dust had gathered on them. He withdrew the curtain and looked at the clock. It was only half past seven. He felt relieved that he hadn't overslept and missed any classes. Where were the others then? He washed his teeth, dressed and went down to the Common Room. As he got within view of it, he saw that there were many people there. In fact, the whole house. As they saw him, they all shouted a big 'surprise'. Harry came down the remaining steps, blushing.

"What's all this?" he asked.

Hermione stepped to him, grinning.

"Well, we thought that you've done so much for the World these past few years and especially last year that we would start off this year with a small breakfast party."

"Breakfast party?" He was very happy about this, he couldn't believe that the others would do this far him. He knew what it all meant. While the rest of the world thought that his claims to Voldemort's return were insane ramblings, his house believed him. Gryffindor was supporting him and that fact gave him strength.

Soon Harry was mingling with the others, talking, laughing at summer antics. Hermione noticed that he was wearing her present and he thanked her for it, then Ron for the book. There was plenty of food and pumpkin juice. The papers with the timetables were all in a pile and they had to dig through it to find their own. He had a great time. He thought of talking to Isabelle and looked around to find her. She was watching him again silently from a corner with a half-smile on her lips. He knew that he couldn't go to her and wished that he could.

Soon it was almost nine o'clock, time for the first lesson. They reluctantly stopped playing and chatting to get their books. Most of them looked at the new timetables for the first time. As always, some got a nasty shock. Harry went up for his books as well. Sitting on his bed he wanted to have a look at his paper, but Ron saw his first.

"Harry! Look what they've done to us!"

He opened the envelope with his name and read the paper. Every morning they had three-hour classes of their main classes. Even potions! He groaned. Three hours with Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape in the same room!

"I see you're as happy about it as I am," Ron said.

"Yes. Especially the potions. There's one good point though, Harry smiled up at his best friend."

"What?" the red-head looked incredulously at him.

"We're going to have DADA right now."

"That's right! We'll find out who this Oya Potter is!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry saw curiosity overtake Ron as he quickly packed his DADA book into his bag.

"Ron, do you know where my books are?" he asked, since he had no idea where whoever bought them put his books.

"Yes, in your trunk."

Harry opened it and there they were; his new books. He looked around, wondering which one was for DADA. To his surprise, he found a book on Hitler and WWII. He had no idea which class it could be for, but he reckoned History of Magic. Finally, he saw a book on magical offence and defence and put it in his bag. He ran after Ron, who was already in the Common Room. They did party a bit too long.

When they got to the classroom, Hermione was already there, saving them seats in the first row. Glancing around, Harry saw Isabelle in the back row, pulling herself together as much as possible. No one seemed to take much notice of her.

They waited for a few minutes; the class should have already started. Suddenly a window burst open and an eagle with a golden beak landed before the teacher's desk in a hurry. It changed into Oya Potter in the blink of an eye. She wore dark purple robes that were tied together this time. Her golden mane glistened in the sunshine that streamed through the windows. Her dark eyes looked around behind her spectacles, taking everyone in for a few moments.

"Good morning class! Sorry for being late, but I'm not used to such early waking and you wouldn't want to meet me before I took a few laps in my eagle form. So, let's get right down to it. You all know that I'm Oya Potter and I just know what you're all wondering about. Am I related to your friend, Harry?" she looked at him with a bright smile. "Well, I am. James Potter was my older brother. Now you're all asking … but I don't want to put words into your mouths. So, what are you all asking?" she looked at Hermione as a clear sign to utter her question.

"Why aren't you taking care of Harry if you're his aunt?" Hermione smiled.

"That's exactly what I was thinking about! Well, because of my dark past," she said this a bit theatrically, but the smile vanished from her features.

She reached towards the belt of her robe and untied it. She took it off. Underneath she wore a short-sleeved blouse.

"This is no real secret, everyone knows it. The reason why I'm standing before you and not in Azkaban is that they never had the opportunity to lock me up, I was too good," with these words she quickly made a few movements with her wand over her left arm to reveal a Dark Mark. The students sitting around her were so astonished they couldn't even gasp. A Death Eater for a teacher! Harry's aunt a Death Eater!

"Yes, I was a Death Eater and nothing can take away the memories or the mark on my arm. I will forever wear it on my soul. The reason why I can teach you now is that Dumbledore believes that I'm sorry for everything I've done and that I'm on his side. He also thinks that I can give you such an insight into why some people join the dark side as no one else really can and I can teach you about the methods they use. Furthermore, I can help you in discovering yourself, thereby lessening the chances of you becoming trapped in the shadows of your own souls. Anyone can become a Death Eater. We all have our dark sides, for some people it's darker than for others. Now you must be thinking that Slytherins become Death Eaters, not Gryffindors. However, there were plenty from your house as well at the Meetings. I was a Gryffindor myself."

She redressed. She took her time, allowing them to digest the information they had just heard. When she was ready, she leaned on the teacher's table and crossed her arms.

"There is more than one reason why people become Death Eaters. Can you tell me about any?" She looked around, they were all still a bit startled. "You, dark haired girl in the back! What's your name?"

"Isabelle Malfoy," her voice sounded just like a whisper.

"Oh yes, well, Miss Malfoy, I suppose you can tell us at least one reason."

"Family," again, a whisper.

"Miss Malfoy, talk louder so that everyone can hear you and please answer in detail," Prof. Potter requested.

"Some join the Dark Side because their family has always been on that side and they don't have much of a choice." Isabelle was apparently struggling to speak loud enough to be heard.

"There's always a choice. If no other, you can always die. Believe me, even that's better." The teacher's eyes first travelled down, then quickly back up to look at their faces.

The students' eyes grew large. They were only fifteen and no one had ever talked to them that way.

"Yes. Or you can always turn into a spy, though few survive that. However, it is more useful than just giving up. Thank you, Miss Malfoy. Once I can hear you, you say good things." Oya smiled at her. "Other reasons? Anyone?"

To everybody's great surprise Neville's hand rose.

"First tell me your name and then the rest. All of you, I have a very bad memory for names so you'll have to do this for the following two months. If I still don't remember your names, please forgive me. Go ahead." She motioned for Neville.

"Neville Longbottom, Miss Potter. Loneliness. When someone feels that the good side does not appreciate them, they are lonely, they could try the other. Also, this way they can avenge being shut out." To everyone's surprise, he didn't stutter even once.

"Very good, Mr. Longbottom. Excellent. You may not have noticed this, but you gave two reasons. One is that people need to feel that they belong somewhere. Voldemort …" There came a sudden gasp from the children. "So, as I said, Voldemort is very good at making you feel part of a group. He praises you for your good work. He initiates you and after doing the hard task that's a part of the ceremony, everyone around you pats your back, saying how great it is to have you. You also get a partner with whom you work. If you're single, then a single person from the opposite sex. If married or you have someone, then someone with equal marital status from the same sex. That way you can either get together with the first or discuss your problems with the second. He knows people well and how to treat them.

"Other than belonging the other reason you mentioned is vengeance. The person becomes a Death Eater to be on the other side than his or her enemy. Or to be able to hurt the enemy some way. A man I knew became a Death Eater because the woman he loved married a man on the side of the good. I joined … well, I was mad at James for several reasons and wanted to hurt him where it ached the most." She looked down a bit, blinking several times. When she looked up again, she had a bittersweet smile on her face.

"More reasons? Can anyone give me more?" she said, her voice ringing strong in the quiet room. Everyone's eyes were fixed on her, not wanting to miss a word.

Ron's arm rose into the air.

"Yes?"

"Ron Weasley. Money and position. Voldemort could offer money and position in the Ministry. At least, the last time he had connections there." Ron blushed the colour of his hair and Harry knew, that would be a good motive for himself.

"Wonderful, Mr. Weasley! You even said his name! However, I wouldn't expect anything less from you.

"She gave him a knowing smile." Money and position have always been a charmer. However, these people had to make a choice between what's right and what's easy. It's easy to help Voldemort in the Ministry with small things. Those people never had to kill personally. Through their actions they could rise fast. Some had no conscience to reckon with. However, there were people who one day looked into the mirror and didn't like what they saw. That's why I put "The Picture of Dorian Gray" on your reading list. Please read it by Christmas. It's the perfect example of when a man lets his ambitions, his dark side take over and one day realises what he had become.

"I believe we have more reasons. At least one." She looked around, searching for a hand.

Finally Seamus Finnigan's rose.

"Seamus Finnigan. Blackmail. If someone is blackmailed by something … I suppose it could be the life of his or her family or something that the person has done."

"That's what I was thinking about! Thank you, Mr. Finnigan. Voldemort used blackmail as well. Though usually not for a longer term and more often than not, eventually he did kill the person. So if you ever get into that situation, I suggest you go to Dumbledore and hide your loved ones. Doing what he wants won't be enough to save them.

"These are common reasons, but not the right ones. If you hate Muggles and Muggle-borns, if you enjoy killing and bloodshed, if you have no conscience … then go ahead and join Voldemort. Never, "she looked around to see that everyone was paying attention to her," for any other reason, because some day you'll wake up and see that you yourself had destroyed everything you loved, everything you cared for.

"To prevent that, you're going to get to know yourselves this term. We'll spend the first 90 minutes on this. After that we're going to start revising the stuff that you need to know for your exams. I was always awful at preparing for exams, so I want to help you. Besides, that time should be spent by that. … I know it will be difficult, because you have had a different teacher every year. To make it more difficult, I only have the notes of Professor Lupin. I do have your books though. … Maybe we're going to get passed that problem and I'll be your teacher for the next three years. Unless, that is, I die a painful death, or loose my memory. Oh, and don't worry, I'm not a werewolf, just an animagus." She grinned at this and the others joined her as well.

During the class, first they did self-discovery tasks and then revised. They got some homework; they had to describe their outer and inner features. They also had to tell if they liked these in themselves or not. Strictly the truth. When they had gathered their notes and things, Oya approached Harry.

"Harry, I need to speak to you. However, not now. After dinner at 7?" she smiled reassuringly.

"Ok," Harry nodded, through a bit weary of his new aunt.

"Good. Bye!" She reached over and playfully ruffled his hair a bit.

"Bye!" He headed towards the door, smoothing down his fringe over his famous scar as Hermione and Ron joined him.

They walked out to the corridor, making their way towards the Great Hall.

"What do you think she'll say, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Don't know. I really don't know what to think. I mean about her. She seems nice and all, but she had been a Death Eater." Harry furrowed his brow in confusion.

"She's your aunt. Maybe you could live with her," Ron suggested.

"Ron, what if she's still a Death Eater and pretends not to be just to get close to me?" the dark haired boy wondered out loud.

"Aren't you a bit paranoid?" the red-head wondered.

"It's only logical, Ron…" Hermione began to say when the man she least expected to see that day appeared.

Lucius Malfoy passed them, looking angry, not even directing a menacing gaze towards Harry. Then he spotted Oya, who was also going to the Great Hall.

"Well, if it isn't Oya Potter!" He put on a fake smile.

"Hello Lucius," she said, returning his fake smile.

When Harry, Ron and Hermione saw this, they stopped as they rounded the corner, wanting to hear the rest of the conversation.

"I haven't seen you in ages. Draco did write that you were here. I could hardly believe my eyes," Isabelle said, the full force of the Malfoy charm even evident in his voice.

"Well, I'm the new DADA teacher," came the answer.

"Finally, someone who knows the trade. It's a true wonder that Dumbledore took you up."

"You know Lucius, I was always good at convincing."

"Yes, so true. Teach Draco well, he'll have many things to do."

"I know. Are you here to talk to me, Lucius, or for some other reason?" The listeners could hear the distaste in her voice.

"As much as I like to welcome you back, Oya, I'm here because of Isabelle."

"I saw her in Gryffindor. I was very surprised when she said her name."

"I'll put her in her place. She has been nothing more than a pain ever since she was born,"

"She's your daughter, Lucius. However, being in Gryffindor can't be that bad. After all, I was a Gryffindor myself."

"I don't want her to be brave. She has a different reason for living."

"To follow the Malfoy tradition concerning women?"

"Yes." The Gryffindor trio looked at each other at that, wondering what Oya Potter meant.

"Maybe she would be of more use to you. I'm sorry; I really have to go eat now, Lucius."

"Go then, Oya."

Harry and the others quickly went on; hoping that Oya hadn't noticed them.

At the table the subject was of course Oya Potter. Neville had already arrived by the time the trio sat down and he was telling about their new teacher.

"She is nice and teaches very well. I could understand a lot of things that I didn't in first year," he explained.

"Is she Harry's relative?" Fred anxiously asked him.

"Yes, she's his aunt. Get this! She was a Death Eater and she doesn't hide it!"

Everyone who could hear this and hadn't already known suddenly looked up at the teacher's table to look at Professor Potter. They could hardly believe it. Harry's aunt! Death Eater!

"How is this possible?" George wondered.

"She said she was angry at Harry's dad," smiled as he said in-between bites, glad to be the centre of attention.

"Why?" George pushed on.

"She never said," Harry replied. "However, she said she wants to talk to me at seven in the evening," with these words, he sat down next to

"Speaking of strange women, Professor Potter has just met Lucius Malfoy on the corridor. He said that Isabelle is his daughter," Ron announced.

Again, lots of astonished faces. It was getting funny.

"She doesn't look a bit like a Malfoy, as I've said earlier," Hermione observed. "It's amazing that she's Lucius Malfoy's daughter. I'll look into that eye-contact thing right after Astronomy."

"Hermione, I don't think you'll need to do that," Harry said.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well, she is in Gryffindor. I don't think she meant any harm."

"Harry, just because she's in Gryffindor, it doesn't mean that she can't be your enemy. Remember what Professor Potter said, anyone can become a Death Eater," Hermione said in that lecturing voice of hers.

Harry was caught. He couldn't tell her that Isabelle was becoming his friend, but he didn't want Hermione to waste her time either.

"Very well then, research it." He decided to let her do it, it was the only way of escape. Besides, she loved research so much, it wouldn't be that much of a problem for her.

"Good. I'll start right after class." To prove Harry, she smiled wide at the prospect pf quality time in the library.

"You'll have to stop at 5, remember?" Harry warned her.

"Oh, the meeting! I almost forgot the first prefects' meeting! I was so excited about the opportunity to research."

They all smiled at this. Then Fred spoke, remembering another meeting they had to hold.

"Harry, we have to discuss the matters concerning the Quidditch team!"

"Yes, you're right. Ugh, I think today will be full of discussions." Harry groaned at the thought. He was glad that he didn't have use.

Just as he said it, an owl swooped down before him, dropping a letter. Somehow, he was reluctant to touch it, but decided to open the letter anyway. Inside was a note from Professor Dumbledore, telling him that Madame Malkin would be waiting for him at the Headmaster's office after class. Oh great, Harry thought, another thing to do.

While eating, he mentally organised his meetings to find a place in his busy schedule for the Quidditch meeting. First, he went to Astronomy. It was a short, 45 minute class. Then he would meet Madame Malkin in Professor Dumbledore's office. He was glad to be finally getting new clothes. It was getting embarrassing. Besides his trousers being too short, his sleeves were short as well, his shirts fitted him all wrong. Also, his robes looked awful. He could just hear Draco Malfoy's comments. The Malfoys always looked well-tailored. Isabelle as well, who looked beautiful last night in that robe. Beautiful? Now why did he think that? Because she was beautiful, he realised. He glanced over to the Ravenclaw table where Cho Chang was sitting. She was pretty, he noticed, but Isabelle, she was beauty itself to him. However, how could he think about her that way? First he had a crush on Cho, who had been with Cedric. And now, a Malfoy. Besides, what got him thinking about Isabelle in the first place? He decided to stop that and go to the appointment he had after that. However, he did glance around, searching for Isabelle. He couldn't see her anywhere.

He had a prefect's meeting at 5. Well, he did have plenty of time before that and that was a great time to put the Quidditch meeting.

"What if we have Quidditch team meeting at 4? I'm sure we would have everything settled by the prefects' meeting."

George looked at him with a strange expression.

"Hmm, we have already settled on that time. We have been waiting for you to say if it is all right with you."

Harry blushed a little.

"Sorry, I have a lot of things to do today and I was thinking about them."

"What things?" Ron was curious.

"Well, after Astronomy I have to meet Madame Malkin about my new clothes. Then the two meetings and finally I'm going to talk with …. my aunt after dinner."

"I'm curious about what she's going to tell you," Hermione said.

"Me too. I can't wait," Harry replied.

"Maybe you'll be able to live with her," Ron suggested again.

"Ron, let's not go that far. We still don't know if she has really put her past behind her," Hermione warned.

"I have just been thinking," George began. "All of our DADA teachers have deceived us somehow. Quirrell tried to bring the Dark Lord back. Lockhart was almost a squib. Lupin was a werewolf. Moody wasn't even Moody! It makes me think that Professor Potter could be different from what she seems."

"I just had an idea!" Harry brightened. "I'll talk to Dumbledore about it."

"Great idea, Harry!" Hermione was happy about it. "Maybe he could tell you a couple of things."

With this final thought they all turned to their food, since they had little time left to eat. Ron especially began shovelling food into his mouth.

Harry was thinking about Oya Potter, his aunt. She had said that she had joined the Dark Side because she was mad at his father. He wondered what possible reason she could have had? Everyone liked his father, well, except for Snape. Strangely enough, there they were again, chatting about something at the teachers' table. Snape was still smiling and it made Harry shudder. Could she really be hiding something? Harry decided to ask Oya about Snape as well. Maybe they knew each other when they were both Death Eaters.

"Harry!" he heard Hermione call him.

"What is it?"

"Harry, we have to get to class, we only have a few minutes left of the break!" She started to drag him towards the door.

Harry looked at his watch, shook his head because it wasn't there and quickly got up. He sometimes still forgot that his watch was ………. in the lake. They had to run up to the Astronomy Tower. They didn't need to see the stars today, they were only being introduced to the schedule of this year's classes. Some classes were held at night to see the stars, some during the day to discuss theory.

After a long 45 minutes of charts and star maps Harry parted from his friends, who were heading to the library to have a look at spells that need eye contact and cause the effect that Harry had experienced. Harry's view on this was that a part of him wanted to believe in Isabelle. He wanted to accept what she had said about the eye contact. However, he had been proven so wrong so many times when judging people's characters, he wanted to make sure he could trust her. Still, he was looking forward to meeting her that night. Lucius Malfoy seemed very mad and he was afraid that he had hurt her a lot. Especially because he hadn't seen her in class.

When he reached the end of that train of thought, he found himself in front of Dumbledore's office. He briefly wondered how to get in, when the gargoyle jumped away to reveal Dumbledore.

"Harry, it is so good to see you. Did you get your presents and books all right?" He gave the boy a warm smile, eyes twinkling.

"Yes, thank you Professor Dumbledore."

"Madame Malkin isn't here yet. However, I have someone inside that you should meet." He smiled and motioned him inside.

When they were within his office, Harry saw a figure clad in black sitting with his back towards the door in one of the chairs. Harry's heart beat faster.

"Sirius?" he stuttered.

The figure got up and turned.

"Harry! My, you have grown so much!" Sirius exclaimed with a big smile.

"I'll leave you two alone." Dumbledore left.

Harry went to Sirius and they hugged. It was then that Harry realised just how much taller he had become. He reached up to Sirius so much better.

They broke apart and sat down. Harry observed that Sirius was in a much better condition than when he last saw him.

"Sirius, did you alert the old crowd all right?" he said the first thing that popped into his mind.

"Yes, they are all ready to fight a new war against Voldemort. They are preparing in secret. Harry, I hope your summer wasn't too bad. I know that the hings that had happened when Voldemort returned had shocked you."

"I'm fine. My summer was all right." Harry shrugged off his godfather's concern.

"Harry, I don't believe you," Sirius said, looking deep into his eyes. "You can tell me the truth."

Harry took a deep breath. He decided that he had to talk to someone about it and the best person was Sirius.

"All right. During the summer I worked most of the day. I fixed things around the house. I ate only a little and slept less. Often, I had nightmares. About Voldemort. When I woke up, I read. I felt …. awful. I can't help thinking that Cedric's death was all my fault. I told him to touch the cup. I …." He looked down into his lap.

"Harry, I don't think it would work if I told you that you are not responsible. I know that no one could ever make me not believe that I'm not responsible for Lilly and James' deaths. The only thing I can do is to help you in any way I possibly can. The only thing you can do is to study, go on with your life and become the best and strongest wizard possible so that one day you can defeat Voldemort." Sirius put a comforting hand on his arm.

"Sirius, why was Voldemort after my parents so much? Why do I play such a big role in the course of things? I've been thinking; Dumbledore isn't like the way he is with me just because of what happened when I was little. There must be something more behind it. Is there?"

"I do know that Dumbledore has been hiding something. He always seemed to take special care when it came to your parents. However, I do not know the reasons behind it," Sirius said with regret.

"Did you ever ask him?"

"No. He'd tell me if I had to know. He'll tell you when you'll have to know." He gave the boy a reassuring smile.

A moment of silence followed as they both considered Dumbledore's reasons. However, neither of them could think of a really good one.

"Yesterday and today many strange things happened around here. I've meet, my aunt." Harry changed the subject.

"Dumbledore told me that she was here."

"Sirius, what do you know about her?"

"Oya. …. She's two years younger than James. She was a beautiful little girl. Is she still beautiful?"

"Yes." Harry smiled at Sirius' comment.

"James was very protective of her. However, I think she felt that she was very much in his shadow. She used to be a quiet girl, then suddenly she changed when she was fifteen. She …. well, I hate to speak about her that way, but she began to have a reputation, you know, a bad reputation. James had just finished Hogwarts when their parents were killed by Death Eaters. It was awful and things only became worse. After she finished school, she moved away and became a Death Eater. We never knew why. James didn't see her again. Or …. I think he did see her again, however, the only thing he said was that she was a very different woman than the girl he had known."

"She said in class today that she became a Death Eater to hurt dad."

"She did seem to be very mad at him, but I have no idea why. …. How is she now?" Sirius furrowed his brow.

"Nice. A bit sad. I think I like her. I'm going to talk to her at 7 this afternoon," Harry informed his godfather.

"She must have changed a lot. I would like to meet her. …. What other strange things happened around here?"

"I've found out that Draco Malfoy has a twin sister," he tried to contain his excitement at the thought of her.

"Yes, …. now that I think about it, I do remember that they had two children. However, I didn't even know that it was a girl."

"Her name is Isabelle. She was sorted into Gryffindor. The strangest thing about her is that she has dark hair and doesn't look at all like a Malfoy."

"Hmmm. That is very interesting. She sounds like a Malfoy, who is not a Malfoy." Sirius grinned at the play of words.

"She doesn't even think like one either." Harry added, eager to talk about her good qualities.

"How do you know that?"

Harry could have kicked himself for letting that slip.

"Well, don't tell anyone, ok?" the dark-haired boy looked pleadingly at Sirius.

"Ok," he nodded his agreement.

"Last night I went to the Common Room to open my presents."

"Harry started to tell his chance encounter with the Malfoy twin." After I was done with them, I saw that she had just come down the stairs. I told her to sit down if she couldn't sleep. I think she had been crying. Then we talked for a while. She said that she doesn't agree with many things that her father had told her. Also, I think he hurts her. She told me not to mention talking to her to anyone."

"I can imagine that her father must be very mad at her for being in Gryffindor," Sirius considered what he had been told.

"I saw him today. He looked furious," Harry cringed at the memory.

"Lucius Malfoy, here? It's a good thing I can use the secret passages. Are you going to see her tonight as well?" The man's eyes twinkled at the thought of a secret rendezvous.

"I hope so." Now the boy was openly excited.

"Harry, do be careful around her," the godfather warmed.

"I know. I am. Oh, Sirius, I haven't even thanked you for your presents."

"Well, yes. You like them?" he smiled at his godson.

"Yes, a lot. I will check the stone often."

"Good. The book?"

"I haven't really had a chance to look at it yet." Harry blushed at the memory of the back.

"Harry, there are so many things I should tell you about girls and such things."

"Don't you think it's a bit early?" he provided, thinking that his godfather may want to talk about it at that moment.

"No. I remember when I was your age … well, let's just say I wasn't a monk," he grinned.

"What about Dad?"

"Oh, he started to notice Lily the girl around that time. Before that she was Lily the friend. By the end of the year they were going out. However, I don't know how far they got. James wasn't the kind to talk about it." He noticed Harry blushing. "What is it?"

"It's just that it's odd to think of them like that."

"Well, they had to do it some time. Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"I know."

Dumbledore chose that moment to enter the room.

"Sirius, I'm afraid you have to go. Madame Malkin is waiting outside."

"Oh, then, goodbye Harry." He stood up.

Harry stood up as well and they hugged briefly.

"Goodbye, Sirius," Harry said, his voice full of sadness.

Then the boy watched as his godfather left through an opening in the wall that had just appeared and then disappeared once he passed it.

Madame Malkin came and the matter of the clothes was taken care of. When they were done and the bought garments were magically adjusted to Harry's size, 4 o'clock came. Harry hurried to the Common Room where the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Meeting would be held. The three girls and the twins were already sitting around a table, waiting for him.

"Well, Harry, nice new clothes!" George exclaimed.

"Yes, just got them." He sat down.

"Then let's do this quickly. All in favour of Harry being the new captain, raise your hands," Alicia Spinnet said, surprising Harry.

He was even more surprised, when everyone raised their hands.

"All right, with that taken care of, when are we holding the tryouts for the keeper?" she went on.

"Hey, aren't you going to ask me if I take it?" Harry was gathering himself.

"No," Fred spoke. "Face it Harry, you're the best man for the job. So, when do you want to hold the tryouts? Make it quick, we always play on the first game of the year and we still need to practice."

"Ugh, yes. Let's post a notice on the school board and put the tryouts to next Sunday," Harry said, trying to look confident.

"Good, let's not waste time!" Fred was very happy.

"I'll put the paper up," Harry said. "Does someone have anything to add?"

They all shook their heads.

"All right, meeting dismissed." He smiled at how formally he spoke.

Harry looked at his watch, then realised he still hadn't got a new one and his arm was still empty. He looked at a clock on the wall. He had some time 'till the other meeting. He decided to go to the hospital wing and get some sleeping potion. He couldn't be as lucky every night as he was last night.

When he finally reached it, he found Madame Pomfrey in her office brewing some potion.

"Madame Pomfrey?" he tentatively asked.

"Oh, Harry, I expected to see you here, but not so soon. What can I help you with?" The boy frowned at her first statement.

"I need something that would put me into a dreamless sleep."

"Having nightmares after last year?" She looked worriedly at him.

"Yes." He looked down.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. Greater men have been broken by less." She went to one of the many shelves containing bottles and reaching up, took one from the top shelf. It was the purple potion that Harry had once taken the year before. "Take one gulp before going to sleep and that would provide you with 4 hours of guaranteed dreamless slumber. You can sleep on after the 4 hours, but you could have nightmares. One sip is 2 hours. So you can time it to how much you want to sleep. Did you understand everything?"

"Yes." Harry nodded and he couldn't wait to get out of there.

Satisfied, Madame Pomfrey gave him the potion.

"Now, I must attend to a patient. If you'll excuse me," with these words she took out a spoonful of the boiling potion and poured it into a glass.

Harry headed out, but something made him stop. Madame Pomfrey went to a bed that had curtains around it. When she drew it aside, Harry got a good look of who was there. It was Isabelle! Her face was very white and she looked gratefully at the nurse, accepting the potion. Harry went out, but kept his ears to the door. When he heard the nurse leave, he went back inside. He hurried to the bed where Isabelle was lying. He slipped in through the curtains.

She looked very white and ill. However, he couldn't see anything else wrong with her. Her eyes slowly opened. When she looked at Harry, they grew round.

"Harry! What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I came for a potion." He raised the item in his hand. "Then I saw you. Are you ill?"

Her eyes turned very sad and she looked away.

"No, I'm not ill. I just … I just don't feel very well."

"Did your father do something?" Harry asked with worry.

"Harry, he did what he did. I'll be all right by tomorrow. We can meet again tomorrow night. You should go. I don't really like you seeing me this way."

"Isabelle…. how could he get to you here?"

"He found me. Draco helped."

"He's helping Lucius hurt you?"

"No. Father told him to find me and bring me to him and so Draco did."

"I see. How did he hurt you?"

"I'd rather not say. Go already, ok?" She tried to end the uncomfortable conversation.

"I want to know what's wrong with you," he demanded.

"Harry, you're sweet. I just can't tell you. Be content with that I'll be fine tomorrow."

"All right. If that's the way you want it. Then, get better. Bye!"

"Bye!"

She looked at him with a smile that he knew was fake.

He left the hospital wing feeling strange. He couldn't see any outer damages on Isabelle, however, if Lucius Malfoy had used a curse, those have a worse effect than any physical beating without leaving any surface evidence. He now also knew the reason for her being absent from class. He had never felt like that. The need to hold her and protect her was strong. A part of him was afraid that it wasn't really coming from himself, that it was just some spell. Another part of him was even more afraid that it was real and not magic. After all, a Malfoy and he has only known her for a day. What a day it has been! It was not over yet.

To be continued… 


	4. Oya Potter

**Author's Notes:** Join the mailing list for this story! http://groups. Get updates, see what's going on with my progress. 

**Chapter 4: Oya Potter**

Harry quickly went up to Gryffindor Tower to put down the sleeping potion he was carrying. His thoughts were still on Isabelle. Her pale completion as it resembled the whiteness of the sheaths, her voice that was so full of life the night before was faint and raspy. He wanted to do some nasty things to Lucius Malfoy, but he knew it was no use. He shook his head, forcing his mind to focus on something else. He wondered what the Prefects' Meeting would be like. He hoped it wouldn't be as boring as Binns' classes. Then again, probably nothing could be that boring.

After he had left the potion in his trunk, he had a look at the board in the Common Room. The meeting was near the prefects' bathroom he had visited last year. He found it easily enough and knocked on the door, since there was no one standing around it. He heard Angelina's voice say "Come in".

He opened the door and went inside. What he found was a large circular room full of people wearing prefect badges. That was when he remembered that he hadn't put his own badge on all day, so now he did. In the middle of the room stood a huge round table and on it were nameplates for each prefect with the signs of their houses. He quickly saw that they were mixed, sitting almost randomly. Even the Head Boy and Girl weren't next to each other. He looked for his own name and when he found it, he got a nasty surprise. Sitting on his right was Draco Malfoy. Luckily Angelina, the new Head Girl was on his left.

Taking his seat, he wondered if Angelina didn't want to be Quidditch captain, because it would have been too much for her. Or perhaps she just didn't want the team to have to get a new captain next year besides two chasers and beaters. Maybe they should try looking for them already, he thought.

He would have gladly considered that idea, if his neighbour hadn't decided to talk to him.

"I don't know who has set the seating arrangements, but I really think they were out of their minds," the blond boy sneered.

"I'm just as happy about it as you are, Malfoy," Harry smirked back at him.

Harry would have very much liked to talk to him this time, or rather put a Cruciatus curse on him so that he could feel what Isabelle must have gone through. However, before his ideas could be turned into action, Angelina stood up to talk to all of them.

"Welcome all to this year's first Prefects' Meeting. We don't have many things to discuss now. However, first of all I would like to welcome those who are attending for the first time. … Let's move on to our priorities. There is an envelope before everyone. Open it now and unfold the parchments." There was big shuffling as everyone did as told. "On one of the parchments you find the schedule for the nightly patrols starting tonight up until December. I worked hard with the Head Boy on ensuring that everyone patrols the same amount. I accept no changes."

Angelina waited a little to allow everyone to go through the schedule. Harry groaned. He had to patrol that night with Hermione. A long day was made even longer for him. He wondered why everyone had picked that day to set him a task.

"On the other parchment you can read about giving and taking away house points. Of course, this may be more interesting to our younger members. However, some of our older ones may need to refresh their memories," with these words she glared at a Slytherin prefect. Harry briefly wondered what that was about. Probably there had been some problems with that prefect and the way he dealt with house points. "I have no more things to discuss. If any of you do, please raise your hands." She looked around, but no one made a move. "If no one has anything to add, then I call this meeting closed. You will be able to read the date of the next meeting on the school board. Goodbye everyone!"

Harry noticed a clock against one of the walls. It was only half past five. He still had an hour and a half until his meeting with Oya Potter. He had time to go and eat. He looked around for Hermione and saw her approaching.

"Harry, did you see?! We have patrol tonight! I'm so happy! I was so excited about going on the corridors after hours legally! Isn't it great?!" She beamed at him.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to get any work done tonight." Harry made a face at this.

"Oh, that's right. You've had a busy day. Who's the new Quidditch captain?" she asked as they went out the corridor and headed for the Great Hall.

"I am. They all voted for me. Bit of a surprise, really."

"You didn't expect it?" She seemed amazed.

"No. Obviously everyone else did. Ron gave me a book for Quidditch captains as a birthday present," Harry smirked, not in a good mood.

"That's good. What else did you do today?" Hermione inquired.

"I've met Madame Malkin in Dumbledore's office and got some new clothes. I'd outgrown all my old ones, but I couldn't go to Diagon Alley."

"It was obvious that your clothes weren't fitting you. Did you ask Professor Dumbledore about Professor Potter?"

"I didn't have the opportunity. However, I've seen Snuffles." He perked up a bit at the memory.

"You did? How is he?"

"I'm going to tell you all about him when Ron will be with us as well."

"Oh, ok." She seemed a bit put down that he was making her wait.

"He said he'd wait for us in the Great Hall."

Without saying another word, they hurried to the Great Hall. When they arrived, they noticed Ron sitting by himself. Most of the students hadn't come to eat yet, it was too early for them. Harry was glad about that. This way they could put their heads together and talk. So they joined Ron at the table.

"Hi guys! Short meeting?" the red-head greeted his friends.

"Yeah, we only talked about a couple of things. Me and Hermione are patrolling tonight." Harry informed Ron.

"Harry, you can tell us about Snuffles now," Hermione said.

"Snuffles? You've seen him?" Ron said, surprised.

"Yes, I did. I couldn't talk to Professor Dumbledore, but I met Snuffles at Dumbledore's office. We talked about Oya."

"Of course, they must have met before!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione gave him a look.

"The first thing that he said was that she was beautiful …." Harry went on telling everything Snuffles had told him.

When he was finished, it took all of them a little time to digest what they had heard.

"Well, it wasn't all that much," Hermione noted.

"No. After all, he was my Dad's friend, not hers," Harry agreed with her.

"It's odd that he didn't know why she was mad at your dad," Ron said.

"Maybe it had something to do with her being in his shadow. There are many people who don't take that well." Hermione voiced her thoughts and dared a glance towards Ron.

"It was probably like that. I'll find out more in a few hours," the dark-haired boy nodded.

"We had a look at some spells needing eye contact, Harry," Hermione said.

"What did you find?" Harry tried to show some interest.

"There are mind penetrating spells that need it, like legilimence. Those could be dangerous. She could be reading your thoughts. Perhaps she was ordered to spy on you for Voldemort. After all, her father is his right-hand man. Next time quickly turn away when she does that," she suggested.

"All right."

Harry was still sure Isabelle was harmless. She seemed to have such a gentle soul, he could never imagine her doing anything so malicious against him or anybody.

They all ate in silence, contemplating the new year and many other things. After that they went up to the Common Room to study some.

Harry had been gazing at the blank parchment in front of him for half an hour, when he realised that his mind kept wandering to his next appointment. He still had half an hour to go until his scheduled appearance in the DADA office, but he couldn't wait. Hoping that Oya wouldn't mind him being early, he stood up from the table.

Hermione noticed his movement and looked up.

"Harry, going already?"

"Yes. Can't wait," he said, anxiety evident in his voice.

"You'll have to tell me everything when we patrol," she gave him a pointed look.

"All right." He left.

On his way he wondered about what the office would be like. Its previous occupants all shaped it to their own personalities. Thinking back, he realised that if he had examined the office more closely, he would have had fewer surprises in his life. Of course, he was more grown now and wiser. Somehow, he saw things differently. He no longer expected to have a quieter year, or a less dangerous one. He walked around suspiciously, never feeling safe. All innocence had been lost to him.

He had almost reached the office, when he heard someone call out Oya's name. He knew that the person was just around the corner, so he stopped to listen. Harry recognised the voice. It was Snape.

"What is it, Severus?" Harry knew that Oya was on the corridor as well as she answered Snape.

"You have been avoiding me, when you know we have to talk," he answered.

"We don't need to talk, especially not here." The boy could hear as she turned on the stone floors.

"No one goes around here at this time of day." Harry had never felt such anxiety in the man's voice.

"True. However, we still have nothing to talk about."

"Yes we do. Like these past years, the things that have happened between us."

"Severus, that's all in the past now. I left behind everything fifteen years ago," she signed.

"Everything? Ares as well?"

"No. I will always remember him. His face … I go to his grave often. However, I left being a Death Eater along with what was between us in the past."

"We are no longer Death Eaters. Neither of us is," he reminded her.

"Yes. Still, …. It was a lie and you know it. We were in the same situation and that's why Voldemort put us together in the first place. He knew we would eventually get together. I never really loved you, Severus, no matter how much I tried."

There was some silence and Harry had time to think over what he had heard. His aunt and Snape. So that had been the reason why he was smiling so much nowadays.

"I loved you," Snape answered.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Oya almost whispered those words and Harry could feel the sorrow behind them. The truth was, Harry couldn't be sorry.

"I need you, Oya. I still need you," the Potion's Master pleaded with her.

"You'll have to do without me. All that I can offer you is my friendship."

"I'm not content with that!" there was anger in Snape's voice. "You are just like her! You want to run after him now, don't you. All along you always loved him!"

"Severus, you always knew that I did. I never told you otherwise."

"You said you could love me as well."

"I wanted to Severus! I wanted to so much! I have even gone as far as almost convincing myself of feelings that I never had! When Ares and then James died I could no longer go on the way I had. That's why I left. Why am I explaining this to you? I've already did."

"Then you will never come back to me?"

"No."

"I can't believe that."

Suddenly, Harry heard the sounds of struggle. He dared a peek around the corridor to see what was happening. What he saw made him think of running to his aunt's help. Snape was kissing Oya feverishly, his arms clutching her to him. She on the other hand was trying to push him away. Then it sounded like she succeeded and a slap could be heard, which stopped Harry from rushing to her aid.

"Severus, get a grip of yourself. I can't believe you just did that!"

"You used to like it."

"I've told you that it's over. I wanted to be your friend, but now I'm not sure I could be. Go away! Get out of my sight, before I get my wand out!" Harry could tell that she was furious.

At last, the sound of feet running away could be heard and luckily for Harry, they were heading the other way. Oya on the other hand went into her office, probably to wait for Harry.

Harry decided to wait a bit, making sure that Oya wouldn't suspect him eavesdropping. Meanwhile, he contemplated everything that he had heard, wanting to remember it in order to talk it over with Hermione and Ron. After a while, he decided to take the few steps to the door and inhaling deeply, knocked. It opened to reveal a smiling Oya, obviously happy to see him.

"Harry! Do come in." She gestured him inside. "You are a bit early, but that's ok."

Harry stepped in, wanting to have a really good look at the room. It was unlike anything it had been before. Gone were the stone walls, instead the place seemed to be inside a forest. In one corner there was a little fountain with crystal clear water flowing down three storeys of marble. On top of it was a statue that had three women standing with their backs to each other, all facing outwards. Harry could see that one was a girl, another a middle-aged woman and the last an ancient woman. All of them were dressed in ancient Greek-style clothing. A desk made of shining wood stood in the middle. On top of it was a picture with its frame turned to face away from him and to his surprise a laptop with its lid down. There was also a green sofa in the room, big enough for two people. Harry found nothing more inside. The room, on the whole, gave a very serene, peaceful feeling. He stepped to the wall first and, touching a tree, felt stone.

"It's still the wall, I only magicked it to look like that. A similar spell than the one in the Great Hall. Sit down on the sofa," she gestured to it.

"Thank you. I thought electronic objects didn't work here," he said as he sat down and pointed to the laptop.

"Oh, there's a spell that not only makes it work in here, but I don't have to find any electricity to make it work either. Most wizards and witches have asked e why the good old parchment and ink aren't good enough for me, but frankly I have a love for computers," she smiled warmly at the boy.

"Yes. Probably most of them don't even know what it is," Harry grinned back.

"Of course. You know, fountains needed a bit of getting used to. When I started living near a stream, I had to go to the toilet every other second." She laughed and Harry feebly mimicked her. "Sorry, I'm talking about silly little things, when I should be answering your silent questions." She sat down next to him. "Where to begin? I'm two years younger than James. I was always his little sister. By the time I got to Hogwarts, it was full of stories of his antics and his friends' as well. Of course, they had been coming for a few weeks to stay with us every now and then, making Mom mad sometimes. However, she could never be truly angry with him. Nor could Dad. You see, family was very important to Dad. The Potter name. However, it was a misfortunate name and looking at our family tree, you could see that they were the only remaining men called "Potter". So they were both very protective of James. Mom wanted to have more children, but no matter how hard they tried, none came. Oh, one did come after me, but he was born dead. Poor mother, how she must have felt … Anyway, so he was the golden boy, the one to carry on the family name. Of course that's you now, Harry, so never forget that. If you die without a son, the family dies out with you. Oh, but there I go, wandering off again! Let's go on. So I used to be a good girl. James always came first and I was used to it. However, I started to grow tired of it when I became a teenager. My rebellious side was waking up. When one day James said that I should be careful with boys and wait till I find the right one, well, I decided that he should just stop caring about my love-life. After all, he had Lily by then and his best friend, Sirius was quite the Don Juan. So I was fifteen and decided to do just the opposite that he had told me. Fifteen is the age from which wizards and witches can legally have sex, so I decided to use it. I slept with as many wizards as I could. I'm not very proud of it, but I always drank my potion and had lots of fun. However, now that I think back, it was all very hollow. I never loved any of them and I always felt empty." Her voice had turned solemn and she looked down into her lap for a while.

"I was barely seventeen when it happened. Mom and dad were attacked when on a trip in Scotland. They were just spending some time together, as it was their wedding anniversary. I don't exactly know who it was. They were found by Muggles a few days after. Their corpses already rotting. There wasn't a mark on them. Avada Kedavra probably. I returned to Hogwarts as an adult, being seventeen already. During the February Hogsmeade trip I saw Severus, your Professor Snape. Everyone knew that he was there in case someone wanted to become a Death Eater."

"Why didn't they arrest him?" Harry wondered out loud.

"Oh, he was most quiet about it. They could never prove anything on him. So I went to him and slipped a note into his hand, telling him to meet me in the Hog's Head, a shady little pub. He was most surprised. A Potter wanting to become a Death Eater. However, even at 19."

"Why did you?"

"Well, as I've told you I was rebellious. I wanted to go against everything that James was or wanted of me. By then he already worked for Dumbledore. I don't really know what he did though. Anyway, I thought that then I would work for the other side. You see, all my life I was his little sister. I wanted to make a name for myself. I thought I would be Oya Potter, the most feared Death Eater in the world! Cute, huh?" She laughed out loud, but it rang hollow.

"I don't know how I could have been that delusional. So after school I moved away and joined him. Got the Dark Mark, the hood and all."

"What did you do?" Hermione was almost dreading the answer.

"Everything Voldemort asked me to do. I got an older partner. He taught me everything. The Cruciatus, the Imperius, Avada Kedavra, hovering Dark Mark, all of the necessary spells. How to go about unnoticed, to extract information. To make the best Veritaserum in the world. I even slept with him. Of course, Voldemort knew I would. He expected me to. It was part of his plan. As I've told you, he put single Death Eaters together. However, I didn't tell you that the simple goal of it was to produce the next generation. Many did. Some of the children that I'll have to teach are results of this "match-making". About what I did working for Voldemort, you don't want to know."

"Did you …. kill anyone?" he asked, tentatively.

"I did. A couple," she said, with regret.

"How could you?" Harry's voice rose a bit.

"Frankly, I don't know. I suppose I didn't think about it. Now, I have to live with the memories. Their faces." Harry noticed tears welling up in her eyes. "When James died, for a while I had been having trouble with my conscience, but then, I collapsed. All the things I've been keeping inside just burst out and I could feel again. I never wanted James to die, never. I loved him, he was my brother." She was openly crying by then. "I did everything to be against him, but I wanted him to live. He invited me to his wedding, but I never showed up. The last time I saw him I was so mean to him. I shouted and told him off. I was even mad at you for existing. I had cursed you, all three of you. How could I have done all these things? I'm so sorry, Harry. Can you ever forgive me?" She looked at him with pleading eyes.

Harry didn't really know what to do. She was crying her eyes out, practically begging him to forgive what he thought was the worst thing in the world. She had killed. She had served the murderer of his parents. She had been his enemy. She had cursed him. He still half couldn't believe that she had truly changed sides. So instead of promising forgiveness, he asked a question.

"What did you do when Dad died?"

She seemed to make an effort to stop crying and after a minute or two her sobs stopped and she managed to talk again, though her voice was hoarse. She looked into his eyes and kept the contact.

"Well, first I cried for days, I couldn't believe that they had died and Sirius was in Azkaban. ... Then I thought of what to do. I couldn't have gone to Dumbledore or anyone else and say 'I'm sorry, will you forgive me?' They would have thought that I had done it because Voldemort was gone. I also thought of going to the Ministry of Magic and telling them that Sirius wasn't a Death Eater, but I was. They would have only sent me away as well. They would never admit a mistake. So I went to where most wandering souls went; to the United States of America, Brave New World. I saw to New York and a whole lot of places. For years I was just discovering the Muggle world. You see, I did take Muggle Studies in school, but I had never so much as rode in a car that didn't have things jumping from in front of it. When I sat on a plane, I was so scared, my knees visibly trembled. I was afraid of heights and wasn't an animagus yet.

"One day I stopped in this small town to eat a burger and saw an odd poster. It said "Witches' Gathering". I looked around, thinking that I was in an American Wizarding town. However, everything looked normal and Muggle-like. So I decided to go and see this Gathering for myself. It was that night in the forest on a clearing. When I arrived, there were bonfires, people dancing around them, some naked, drums, just like a great party. Two women, who were holding hands, welcomed me. I decided to talk to them about what it all was. That was when I found out about Muggle witches and a religion called "Wicca". I'm not going to talk in details about it right now, but it is very interesting. So I listened to them and asked questions. I started to understand things and stayed. For hours I just watched them, Wiccans. It was somehow the most beautiful thing I had ever seen." Their eyes locked, Harry could see how her eyes glistened at the memory. "There were only few men. I noticed one of them staring at me intently. I thought that he wanted to sleep with me. I considered it and decided to say no if he asked me. He sat down next to me, but he didn't ask the question I had expected. He asked me if I was a real witch from the Wizarding World. I must have looked at him silly, because he smiled. I told him I was and asked him how he knew. He told me he could see auras and that was how he knew of me being a witch. He asked me what I was doing at the gathering. Somehow, after years of keeping it all inside, I told him everything, Voldemort and all. It occurred to me that he was an Auror hunting for me, but I didn't really care. Well, he wasn't. He was a wizard and told me he could help me. He even said that he didn't want me to sleep with him. I said yes to his offer. In the following years we lived in his small house outside the town in the forest next to a stream. He was a Wiccan as well. He taught me about it and spells I never knew even existed. He taught me how to be an animagus. I had found peace there and myself. I became the person I would have become only if my petty jealousy hadn't overtaken me. My dark side. I had become a Wiccan as well. One day I was just eating by the lake when I felt a searing pain on my arm. I looked at the Dark Mark and saw it glow. I quickly hurried to Elias, that was his name, and told him that Voldemort must have returned. He said that I should return to England, because people could use me against him, especially with my new skills. I agreed, so I packed. I was so sorry to go. We talked before I Apparated away. He had taught me everything and there were no more reasons for me to return. He told me that we would never see each other again. I shed a few tears and Disapparated. I came to Hogwarts. Of course I didn't Apparate right into Hogwarts, but arrived into Hogsmeade. It felt odd to be there again. I still had some Galleons on me and got a room in the Three Broomsticks. Freed from my luggage, I went to the Shrieking Shack. I looked around a bit and remembered. You know what it was used for?" She suddenly asked.

"Yes. I know that Dad, Sirius, Remus and Wormtail hid there. Also, two years ago Sirius hid there again after he escaped from Azkaban."

"He did? Very clever of him. They never let me go with them. I often wanted to. After that I changed right there. I flew in my eagle form low, almost touching the ground to get through some of the magical barriers. Then I soared up at the side of the building. I found the window of Dumbledore's office and flew in. I stood before him. We talked, he believed me. I stayed here all summer. The rest you know. Except for one thing. I have also agreed to give you some extra lessons. I know that with the OWLs coming up you'll be busy. However, there are many months till then and what I have to teach you is more important," she informed him.

"What is it?" Harry's eyebrow rose at the thought of extra work. He hoped he wouldn't need to write more essays.

"Give me your wand, Harry." She raised her hand with the palm up.

He did as asked.

"Now, tell me how you feel."

"Ok," he shrugged.

"What if I were to attack you? Then how would you feel?" she pressured.

"Powerless," he admitted.

"Yes and that's what we're going to work on. Here you go," she handed him back his wand. "Now, watch."

"What?"

By the time Harry had uttered his question, he knew what to watch. Behind Oya, the picture on her table started to move and then flew towards her. It gently landed in her hand.

"Did you see me use a wand?"

"No," he said, still gaping.

"Yes and I don't need one. I use it during classes and in front of others in case my enemies could see me. Surprise is an important element when fighting. Just imagine that you're duelling with someone. You disarm the person and think you've won. When suddenly, from out of nowhere, you get stunned. Highly effective, no?" she grinned.

"Yes." Harry had to admit that she was right.

"I'll be giving you lessons on wandless magic from now on. When do you have time?" she enquired.

"On Friday afternoon I don't have classes."

"I do, however what about 6 o'clock in the evening?"

"Fine," he answered, not sure that he really wanted to attend the classes. He still felt strange around her.

"Good. Now, the reason why I had got this picture from my desk was to show it to you. Have you seen pictures of James?"

"I have an album. Hagrid had assembled it for me. He got the pictures from friends."

"Good old Hagrid. However, you probably don't have small childhood pictures, do you?"

"No, only adult ones," he admitted.

"Well then…." She turned the frame in her hand and gave it to Harry.

From a black and white picture two children were smiling and waving at him, hugging each other as well. One was a taller boy with glasses and ruffled hair, the other a pretty little girl.

"It's the two of us. James is 9 and I'm 7."

She stood up and went to her desk. Drawing out a case, she took out a book that looked like an album.

She sat very close to Harry and when she opened it, it folded out partially into Harry's lap.

"I know that no one could tell you little stories from James' early childhood, so I will. This picture, "she pointed at the first one that had a baby on it, "is James' first photo. Pretty little kid, huh?" Harry looked at his father in awe.

The remainder of the meeting went on like that, and Harry slowly got to know his father as a child, a part of a family. An old wizarding family. He laughed sometimes and left when it was time for him to patrol with happiness and the first strands of love for his Aunt Oya. He knew that he would surely return for his wandless magic lessons.

To be continued… 


	5. The Tarot Reading

**Author's Notes:** Join the mailing list for this story! http://groups. Get updates, see what's going on with my progress. 

**Chapter 5: The Tarot Reading**

Walking down the corridors to the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry realised that he again had no idea what the time was. He must have talked for hours with his aunt. He needed to find a clock. He soon did notice a grandfather clock standing not far from him. That was when he broke into a run. He only had five minutes left till ten o'clock, when he and Hermione would have to start patrolling. Time certainly flew. He was very glad that he only had to walk around the castle for an hour and he could finally go to bed and rest. He was so exhausted that he wasn't even sure if he should take his Dreamless Sleep potion that night.

He thought of his day tomorrow. He would have Transfiguration in the morning and Divination after lunch. After that he could finally get to his DADA essay and would do the homework set on that day's classes as well. Of course, he also needed to make a poster announcing the Quidditch tryouts on Sunday. Ron would probably attend.

Just as he reached the portrait and he was about to say the password, it flung open and Hermione came out.

"Harry! Just about time! We have to start patrolling," Harry framed at her over-enthusiasm.

"Am I late?"

"Not really. Let's go!" She said, already shipping down the corridor.

Harry followed her at a much slower pace, so she had to slow down to allow him to catch up.

"How did it go with your aunt?" she asked.

"Great! I've found out a lot about her. Even some things that she didn't want me to."

"Oh really? I hope you won't have me wait until Ron is around as well," Hermione pleaded with him.

"All right, I won't." Harry went on telling her about the exchange between Snape and Oya, then continued with what Oya had revealed to him. He also told her about the interesting private lessons awaiting him. "After that she got out an album that was full of childhood pictures of her and dad. She also told me lots of stories about what they did when they were little."

"Do you forgive her?" she raised her eyebrow at him.

"I don't really know. …. Maybe it's not even my place to forgive her. I think that she didn't tell me everything."

"Yes. Like you've mentioned a name, Ares. He is obviously dead if they talked about visiting his grave. Do you have any idea, who he could be?"

"No," he shook his head.

"He must be connected to both Professor Potter and Professor Snape. Ares is the name of the Greek God of war. However, I'm getting nowhere with this. Maybe you should ask her."

"Hermione, that would give away that I've been eavesdropping," he reminded her.

"True. Well, we'll find out sooner or later, we always do …."

Hermione screamed as a suit of armour fell on the floor with a loud bang in front of her. They heard a cackling laughter as Peeves flew over them, holding the armour's helmet. He dropped it almost on top of Harry's head.

"Peeves!!!!" they shouted in unison.

"Students out at night!" he called as he disappeared through the wall.

Just as they were about to go on and were trying to remember where they had left their conversation off, Filch came running down the corridor from the other end.

"Finally I've got you! Filthy students, wondering around the corridors after hours. Probably doing something illegal again." He went to them and grabbed their arms.

"Hmm, Mr. Filch? We're prefects on patrol," Hermione informed him, pointing to her badge.

"Potter a prefect?! What has the world come to?!" he looked incredulously at the dark-haired boy.

Without another word, Filch turned around, cursing under his breath and began restoring the armour to its proper place.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, shrugged and continued patrolling. When out of earshot, they talked about this recent event. No other word of Oya Potter or the mysterious Ares was mentioned. As soon as they were finished, they went to bed.

That night Harry had another nightmare and woke up gasping for breath. Cedric died over and over again, Voldemort laughed. He held his head in his arms and got out of his bed. He had forgotten to take the potion! He thought of taking it then, but the nightmare was still fresh in his memory and he didn't really feel like closing his eyes again. He wondered what to read and then he remembered the book Sirius had given him. He got up and as silently as possible he got it out of his trunk. He went down to the Common Room after he got a robe over his pyjamas. He sat down on the battered old sofa in front of the fire and began to read. He blushed at some parts, his eyes widened at the pictures. There were things that made him hot and bothered even. After he was tired enough, he returned to bed and took the potion, wondering about some of the things that he had learned.

Harry woke to the sounds of the others getting ready, feeling as sleepy as ever. He had to remember not to forget the potion again, especially at the end of such a long day. After he had his glasses on, he looked at the timetable beside his bed, just to make sure that he remembered right. It was Tuesday and he had the whole morning devoted to Transfiguration. When lunch break was over, he would need to climb the silver ladder to Divination.

He got out of bed and went into the bathroom. Only Ron was there, doing something very odd. He was holding his wand over his face and slowly moving it around his mouth.

"Good morning Ron!" he called out.

"Oh, good morning Harry!" He stopped whatever he was doing and looked at himself in the mirror.

"Er, Ron? What were you doing?"

"Shaving of course," he said in a matter of fact voice.

So that's what it was? Harry almost told Ron that he didn't need it yet, but stopped himself.

"We have Transfiguration and Divination today," he said instead and got under the shower.

"I don't have Divination!" Ron shouted to be heard over the running water.

"You don't?" he shut off the water and soaped himself.

"No. I gave it up. I could do that at the start of this year and since I had such awful grades, Professor McGonagall didn't object. Of course, I had to take up something instead, so I decided on Muggle Studies. With Hermione and you to help me, it'll be easy."

"Why didn't you tell me? I could have dropped it too," Harry whined.

"You have better grades. Besides, with You-Know …. I mean, Voldemort around, you could perhaps find use for it."

"You could be right." He started the shower again to rinse.

"What about Professor Potter? What did she say last night?" Ron asked his friend.

"It was very interesting…." Harry went on to tell everything to Ron the same way he had to Hermione. He only stopped while brushing his teeth and getting dressed, as the others could have heard him. By the time he had finished, they were already sitting at their house table, eating breakfast and waiting for Hermione. He had just finished talking, when she sat down.

"Morning guys! What are you talking about?" she asked as she started to put some eggs her plate.

"Well, Harry has just told me about Professor Potter," Ron informed her.

"Oh, he told me last night. What do you think Ron? Who could this Ares be?"

"No idea. Maybe a friend, or Professor Potter's ex-boyfriend. Snuffles and even she said that she was …. you know." Ron finished with a blush.

"Perhaps," Harry said.

They all minded their food a bit. A few minutes had passed, when owl post arrived. A big brown one brought Hermione the Daily Prophet and swooped away with a bacon after being paid. She quickly went through the Headlines and then opened it on a page and began to read.

"Found anything interesting?" Harry asked.

"Yes. It's an article on Professor Potter. Here, read it." She placed the paper so he could read it as well.

Harry took the paper from her and looked at the page. There was a photo of his aunt on it, smiling, waving. Obviously a recent picture.

HEADMASTER MAKES A DOUBTFUL CHOICE OF NEW TEACHER

Albus Dumbledore had not announced who the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts would be by the beginning of the term. The Daily Prophet has just recently got the news that it is Oya Potter. When observing this woman's history, one must wonder of the choice. Miss Potter is the sister of the famous James Potter, who was killed by You-Know-Who himself, and aunt of the also famous Harry Potter, who had defeated him. However, as the Prophet has learned, she is nothing like her relations. Many believe she had been a servant of the Dark Lord, however, this could never be proven. After the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, she had fled the country to an unknown location and haven't been heard from until now. One cannot pass the activities Miss Potter had been engaged in during her time at Hogwarts. She is reported as having had a bad reputation. An old schoolmate says of her:

"If you wanted her, you got her. She didn't care who you were."

A highly doubtful choice of a teacher. However, looking at the recent happenings in Hogwarts, one doesn't wonder. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster has been known to make unlikely decisions in his quest for a teacher for this position. Perhaps, it is his position that should be in doubt.

Harry was angered a bit by the awful article.

"This is…."

"The truth, Harry," Hermione said.

"Yes, but they don't write about the way she is now. I didn't know her before, but she's nothing like the person the article speaks about." The air around Harry was almost crackling with the wild magic his fury evoked.

"You're right," Hermione nodded her agreement.

"Can I read it too?" Ron asked.

Harry handed him the paper, still angry. He was also mad about the last few lines, putting the blame on Dumbledore and practically calling him incompetent.

Suddenly, Harry could feel something fly past him. Just as he looked that way, he saw Oya Potter change into her human form. He looked up into his aunt's face and saw her smiling.

"Good morning, Harry!" she greeted.

"Good morning, er…."

"I'm Professor Potter in the classroom. Outside, it's Aunt Oya."

"Good morning, Aunt Oya," Harry corrected.

"Bon appetit," she looked around at Ron and Hermione, "to all three of you!"

"Bon appetit!" they replied in unison.

She was just about to leave, when Harry called after her.

"Aunt Oya, I think you should see this," with these words he gave her the Daily Prophet that he had just taken from Ron. "Page two."

She looked at him and took the paper. Opening it on the said page, she quickly scanned the article.

"Well, the photo is good and there's nothing here that's not the truth. Well, except for the part about Dumbledore, of course."

"But they are not saying anything of the way you are now!" Harry insisted.

"Harry, you can't expect a paper like the Daily Prophet to care about a thing like that. This is what they can sell. Silly articles are the least you should be worrying about. Now go on eating, the bell will ring soon."

She gave them a beautiful smile, returned the newspaper and strode off to the teachers' table. Harry could see Snape direct an apologetic smile towards her, but she looked the other way. Oya sat down ignoring Snape.

"Obviously that must be about last night," Hermione said, having seen the exchange as well.

After breakfast, they rushed to Transfiguration. During the class they heard a speech on the importance of OWLs, then learned to change a large yellow box into a dog. Harry's was a bit square and yellow. In the second half of the class it was revision time. Transfiguring a match into a needle was a piece of cake compared to the other things they had done since that first class.

The trio sat down to lunch silently, a bit tired after the long session.

"You two have Divination now, right?" Hermione asked.

"No, you're wrong for once," Ron replied, smiling. "I have Muggle Studies."

"Since when do you take that class?" she looked at him with surprise.

"Yesterday. I talked to Professor McGonagall," he informed her.

"You do know that you have to learn the material of the last two years, don't you? Also you have to take tests on the subject."

"Sure. However, with Dad and you two, I'd ought to pass."

"What does Mr. Weasley have to do with this?" Harry wondered.

"Well, he talks about Muggle stuff a lot at home. I should remember something."

"I'll give you my notes from third year," Hermione told him. "The notes from last year you could get from Hannah Abott. I think she's still taking it. But you will find that out in a few minutes, won't you."

"Thanks," Ron said while taking a bit of his huge stake.

"I'm proud of you Ron for taking this step. It had to take courage." She smiled at him.

Ron blushed a little.

"Well, I have to hurry to get to the tower. It takes a while. Bye!" Harry stood up and left.

"Bye!" they shouted after him.

Harry hurried to the tower, not wanting to be late. He was the last indeed to climb up the silvery ladder. He took his usual place, looking longingly at Ron's empty chair. Only the fun they had had during the lessons had made them worth attending. He stopped himself brooding and forced his eyes onto Professor Trelawney, seated in her usual chair. Her eyes were closed and only opened when the room became quiet.

"This term we shall learn about tarot cards. My inner-eye tells me that while a boy went, a girl will come in his place."

Just as she said that, the trap door opened and Isabelle Malfoy climbed up.

"Excuse me, I came from the Hospital Wing and lost my way," she looked apologetically at the teacher.

"That's quite alright. You must be Ms. Malfoy."

"Yes."

"Please, take a seat then," the Professor said, never abandoning the mistiness in her voice.

She looked around. There wasn't an empty chair left except for Ron's old place. She cast her eyes at it, then at Harry. Hesitantly, Isabelle walked to the chair and sat down. For a glance they met and Harry wasn't sorry about Ron anymore. Behind him he could hear Parvati and Lavender excitedly whisper that she had indeed came in Ron's place.

"So as I was saying, this term we shall study tarot cards. Take your books out and observe the most commonly used method, the Celtic Cross. With this method, first you ask a question, like 'What will happen to my love life?' and then spread the deck. After you've read the cards, you will have your answer. Now, work in pairs the usual way." She fell silent.

"Hmm. What's your question, Harry?" Isabelle asked him, whispering.

"How are you?" he whispered back.

"That's not what I've meant," she frowned at him.

"I know," Harry allowed himself a small smile.

"Harry, let's not talk about this now. Someone could overhear."

"All right. Then tell me if I die this year."

"That's not the proper question and you won't. Begin it the same way she did."

"Very well, what will happen to my love life then?" he grinned at her a little.

"Oh, let's get on with it." She was clearly bothered by him.

Harry watched as she reached into her bag. She took the cards out of their box, which was a silver card-holder. It was very ornate, with snakes and dragons on one side and on the other. Harry caught a glimpse of a crest. Hermione thought it was a beautiful thing and was quite awed by it. She took the rather large cards in her hands and began shuffling them, her eyes closed, murmuring something. Then she took the deck in one hand and spread them in a fan-like fashion. Eyes closed, she ran her other hand over them, still murmuring. Her hand slowed and then her fingers closed over a card. She repeated this with every card, saying something when putting it down.

"This is it," she put down The Star card.

"This crosses it," five of Wands.

"This is the crown," The Moon.

"It lies on this," eight of Swords.

"This was before," Death.

"This follows," three of Pentacles.

"This is you," two of Swords.

"The place," seven of Wands.

"These are the hopes and fears," five of Swords.

"This is where it leads," The Lovers.

When she was finished, she looked at the spread before her for a while. While observing the cards, Professor Trelawney stepped to their table.

"Oh, the Death card. I see this year you will die, Harry. Your spread is full of closing cards." Her eyes twinkled merrily.

"Professor, the Death card refers to the past here. Besides, Harry asked about his love life." Isabelle trained at her incompetence.

"Oh, well then. Go on. You will need the book, Miss Malfoy,"she warned her.

"No, Professor Trelawney, I don't."

Without blundering another word, the teacher went away. Isabelle turned back to her reading.

"Let me see now. The Death card is about your past, as I've said. It means that you have closed something that needed to be closed. Maybe a relationship or something like that. The five of Swords means that you are afraid of conflicts in your love life and of indignity. Now, let's see the present. The Star means that you have already met someone, whom you can start a relationship with. The approaching impulses according to the five of Wands are tests to your physical strength. You're unsure and afraid of starting a relationship, this is told to me by The Moon. The eight of Swords tells me of your subconscious. You don't let yourself love for some reason. There is always a 'but'. The two of Swords also talks of you. You don't want to make a decision in your love life that you need to. Now about your surroundings, the seven of Wands says that someone wants to attack you from the direction of your love life. Not a good present situation, but let's see the future. This looks like an interesting love story. Not dull, for sure. Hmmm. In the near future, you will make a decision that will lead to a full and stable relationship. Oh, good! And look at your distant future! The Lovers! That means a great love. Maybe even the love of your life! Let me summarise this. You've put the past behind you, but you still have fears and obstacles. There are many things that make this future relationship difficult, but in the end you will win. This relationship will probably be the wonderful in your life. Maybe you'll never have another again. I mean, maybe you'll marry this girl and live happily ever after. I can't be sure, but everything points to a great love affair. The kind that books are about." She seemed genuinely excited about it.

"This isn't the first time you've done it, isn't it?"

"No, it's a habit of mine," she said as she gathered the cards.

"The cards really say that?" Harry looked questioningly at him.

"Yes Harry." She was a bit annoyed at him questioning her.

"So when will this happen?"

"Oh, as I've said, you already know the girl. When you two get together only depends on when you decide you want this relationship. From then on, you'll be happy with her. Now it's your turn." She gestured to his bag.

"Wait, do you have any idea, who the girl could be?" Harry really wanted to know more about his 'great love'.

"No, Harry. I can't tell you if she's blonde or brunette."

"Oh well. What's your question?" he gave up and took out his cards and bock. He frowned a bit at the paper box his cards had come in.

"Tell me about my love life," she smiled faintly at him.

In the deserted Common Room Harry looked at the sign that he had magicked against the wall. He had written down in plain words that he was looking for a Keeper, two reserve Chasers and Beaters. After Divination he had talked to all the members of the team and they agreed with him that for the sake of winning next year, they should begin training the replacements already. After dealing with captain duties, he had done some homework to Hermione's delight and had got Ron to join him as well.

He tore his gaze off the wall and was looking at the stairs in anticipation when he heard soft footsteps. Isabelle came wearing the same robes as on the first night. She looked at him and smiled brightly, then glanced around. After that she sat down on the couch next to him.

"It's good to see you again, Harry."

"It's good to see you too. Now can you tell me how you are and what had got you into the hospital wing?" Harry passed the matter.

"I'm fine now. About the other thing … after Defence Against the Dark Arts Draco told me to go to an old, unused classroom on the first floor, because Father was waiting for me there. I didn't dare refuse him. Then … he wasn't pleased with me getting into Gryffindor. He said that even Hufflepuff would have been better."

"What did he do?" Harry asked, with a hint of anger in his voice.

"Punished me," her voice was very small.

"How?" he wanted to know.

"It doesn't matter. Harry, I don't want to talk about it." She looked away from him, back down into her lap.

For about a minute Harry watched her sad face, the flames seemed to be dancing on her pale features. The urge to protect her frail being threatened to take him over from the inside.

"Harry, tell me about your aunt," she changed the subject.

He sighed, the magic of the moment was broken and with it the need as well. So again he told everything and she listened attentively.

"What do you think?" he asked, when he reached the end of his account.

"Do you forgive her?"

"That's exactly what Hermione had asked as well."

"We are both girls," she reminded him.

"Yes."

"What did you tell Hermione then?"

"That I didn't know. I still don't. Perhaps I need to get to know her better," Harry shrugged.

"Well, she doesn't sound like a Death Eater, at least not now."

"You must have met many."

"Living with one of the most prominent ones does bring me together with a couple."

"What about Snape?" he wondered out-loud.

"I have met him. He had been a dinner guest a couple of times."

"Nott, MacNair, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle?" Harry listed the ones he knew to be Death Eaters.

"Those too. The names I could list … Though I was often kept upstairs during these dinners. However, I do have ways of getting information."

"Could we write down a list? I'd give it to Dumbledore, just to make sure that he knows of them." The idea came suddenly to Harry.

"I don't know. If Father ever …" she hesitated.

"I'll make sure that no one, but me and Dumbledore see it. After he reads it, we'll destroy the paper. Also, I'll write it down, not you," he assured her.

"Very well. I did say that I'd like to help you and I'll be true to my word."

"Thank you, Isabelle." He took one of her hands in his and looked into her eyes. "I know that it is hard for you, because you are afraid of your father so much."

"And I have a very good reason for it. Oh, Harry, you can't even imagine …" Her word ended in a small sob. Harry could feel one of her fingers caressing his hand as he still held on.

"Harry Potter, sir!" came a squeal from behind Harry.

He looked behind him, releasing Isabelle's hand in the motion. Behind him stood Dobby the house-elf in similar attire to what he had seen him in a year ago, except for different socks.

"Dobby!" Then he saw the huge eyes of Dobby dart to the girl beside him and the elf started to run towards him. Or so he thought, because instead, he jumped into Isabelle's lap, who hugged him with the biggest smile Harry had ever seen on her face.

"Dobby! My dear, dear Dobby!" she exclaimed.

"Isabelle Malfoy, miss! Dobby is so happy to see the miss!" he called out as he snuggled into her embrace.

"I'm very happy too!" She planted a big kiss on his tea-cozied head. "I've missed you sooo much! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, miss." The house-elf looked up at her face. "Dobby has missed his mistress as well. Dobby works here at Hogwarts for Dumbledore now. Dobby is even paid!"

"I'm so glad! I was so happy when you were freed, even though it meant loosing my best and only friend. I especially missed you on those … special nights," she stopped herself as she apparently almost let something slip.

"Dobby has been worried about Isabelle Malfoy. Who would give the miss supper, when miss was sent to bed without one? Dobby had been very worried indeed," he whined.

"I can't say that I was well without you, but … I held on."

"When Isabelle Malfoy needs Dobby, the miss can come to the kitchen. Dobby mostly there. Harry Potter knows where the kitchen is."

"Thank you, Dobby. Now, be on your way." She gave him another kiss. "I will surely come and visit you."

"Thank you miss. Goodbye, Isabelle Malfoy! Goodbye, Harry Potter!" He waved his little hand and disappeared.

"I didn't realise you knew him!" Harry said.

"Well, it was you who freed him from Father," she reminded him.

"Yes, it's just that I didn't make the connection. I see you were friends. I'm sorry that I took him away from you. I never thought I was doing something bad for someone by freeing him."

"Oh, that's perfectly all right, Harry. I was really happy that you have freed him." She put a hand on his arm to relax him. A nice tingle ran through Harry at the contact. However, she quickly withdraw it, as if her actions scared her.

"But you lost a friend."

"I did. However, I wanted him freed. Father was really treating him in an awful way. At least … he could get away from Lucius Malfoy's grasp," she shuddered.

Harry put a hand on her shoulder and she looked up into his eyes. He felt the connection again and felt her fear and pain. She quickly looked away and shrugged off his hand.

"Dobby is my friend and what makes him happy, makes me happy. I'd better go to sleep now, Harry. I'm afraid I'm still a bit weak."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm keeping you up, when you were just released from the Hospital Wing. You should lay down and rest."

"Good night, Harry. Have pleasant dreams, and don't worry about me," with those words she rose from the sofa.

"What makes you think…"

She silenced him with a smile.

"Good night, Isabelle."

They both went up to their dormitories. Harry undressed and showered, then took the potion in the bathroom. He felt drowsy within seconds and lay down in his bed. His last thoughts were on the fear in Isabelle's eyes. He wanted to help her, even though she didn't want it.

To be continued … 


	6. Lessons and Quidditch

**Author's Notes:** Join the mailing list for this story! http://groups. Get updates, see what's going on with my progress. 

**Chapter 6: Lessons and Quidditch**

Harry woke up feeling refreshed for the first time in months. He drew back the curtains and looked at the clock. It was half past seven, so he was just on time. He examined the timetable by his bed and that was when his spirits fell. His whole morning was scheduled to be spent in the dungeons in Potions.

He went about his morning routine dreading nine o'clock. The others were in similar conditions and conversation was kept to the minimum at the breakfast table. They only brightened a bit when Oya greeted them on her way to the teachers' table. However, when they saw her exchange an angry glance with Snape, they were back in their bad mood. They were sure that the conflict between. The two past lovers would worsen the Potion Master's mood. They arrived to class ten minutes ahead of time, because they were so afraid of being late.

"Well, if it isn't Potter!" called a snide voice as they were standing in front of the classroom.

"Malfoy," was all Harry said.

"Did you have a nice summer, Potter? I know I did," he smiled, waiting for an answer. When he didn't get any, he turned to Hermione. "Still here, Mudblood?"

Harry looked over to Ron and saw his face contort in anger. He put a restraining hand on his arm. With the prospect of Snape appearing any minute, he didn't want trouble. Malfoy on the other hand, did.

"I thought that after June you would have at least the sense to run away from here as fast as you can." He laughed and Crabe joined him with Goyle. "Well, hello sis!" he greeted and the trio looked behind them, to see Isabelle arrive. "Nasty little trick you've pulled. Now I won't be able to keep an eye on you like Father wanted."

"I can take care of myself, Draco," was her answer.

"Yeah, that's why you had to leave Durmstrang. Father heard that sometimes … Oh, but I'd better not say such a thing out loud. A disgrace to the family." He hung his head in mock shame.

Just as Draco was about to have a good laugh at this, the door opened and Snape strolled out.

"Get inside," was all he said and returned to the classroom obviously in a foul mood.

They all followed him and took their places at their cauldrons. He stepped up to the blackboard and began writing up the instructions for some very complex potion.

"I thought I'd put you all to a little test today," he said a quarter of an hour later, as he was finished. "There may be one or two of you," he looked at Hermione and Draco, "who are capable of making this potion, but I don't expect more. Get to work now. You have all morning to finish."

For hours and hours Harry measured, chopped, ground, stirred, heated, cooled, he was concentrating so hard; his eyes bulged. They only had fifteen minutes left of the class, when he sat down, finished. He looked at the end of the instructions. His potion was supposed to be clear and watery. His, however, was yellow and dense. He just couldn't understand what he had done wrong. He looked over to Ron, who was still working. Hermione was looking into her cauldron, obviously wondering about what went wrong. Her potion was watery, but a pale green. He couldn't see inside anyone else's, but Neville looked frantic. Even Draco Malfoy had a nasty smirk on his face. Isabelle, on the other hand, was sitting in her chair, arms and legs crossed. Harry had never seen her with that expression before; it was confidence.

All these hours Snape had been either at his desk, observing them, or disappeared inside his office. Now, he decided to go around and have a look at their work. Without saying anything to them, he made the contents of Seamus' and Dean's cauldrons disappear with a wave of his wand. Neville came next.

"Longbottom, I didn't expect anything else from you. Evanesco!" his potion was no more as well.

"Miss Granger, I did expect more of you," was all he said to Hermione, before destroying her potion. She hang her head in shame.

"Well, let's see what we have here, Potter." Harry just knew he was going to dwell on it. "By the smell of it, it could be rat stew. I have made this potion at least a hundred times, so, as I remember, it only needs one rat tail. However, you have clearly wasted at least five on this. Am I correct?"

"Yes, sir," he replied, hesitantly.

"Do you think that I'm teaching you how to cook?"

"No, sir."

"Then why are you wasting my time with this stupid rat stew?!"

His eyes were almost mad. Harry almost told him that if he had a problem with Oya, he should just go and sort it out with her, but said nothing. Of course, Snape sometimes did act odd, but this time he was almost silly. His potion too, disappeared. Malfoy was next.

"Your father would have very much liked you to get this right." He said nothing more. "Evanesco!"

He arrived to Isabelle's cauldron. He looked at it, bent over the liquid and took a sniff.

"Excellent, Miss Malfoy! Incredible! Perfect! How you've got among those incompetent Gryffindors, I have no idea. I'm sorry to do this, but I have no other option. Twenty points for Gryffindor," he said this, as if someone was pulling his tooth out. "How did you do at Potions at Durmstrang?"

"I was top student."

Snape quickly went to his desk and grabbed a book from there.

"It says here that you were the top student in all your classes. I repeat, how could you be sorted into Gryffindor?" He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

"It wasn't so hard to make that potion. I'm very interested in Potions and often practise," she shrugged.

"Well, you may just be the student I've been waiting for! Someone with the talent for it." Snape looked much happier than … ever, except for the time before Oya's refusal. "All you incompetent fools, get out of here. Miss Malfoy, I need to discuss something with you," with these words he motioned for her to follow him inside his office.

When they were outside, Harry turned to Hermione.

"He never did tell us what we were making. Do you know?"

"Veritaserum," she answered. "It was probably the hardest he could think of that could be done in a couple of hours."

"Imagine that, Snape gave us points and it was a Malfoy who earned it for us. Miracles do happen," Ron said.

"Oh Ron, she doesn't seem all that bad," Hermione told him.

"Malfoy," the red-head frowned.

"Still, she had never said or done anything mean," she reminded him.

"Just wait."

Hermione didn't reply to that.

The afternoon was spent on the grounds with Hagrid, since it was Care of Magical Creatures. Harry thanked him for the book and would have very much liked to talk to him about giants, especially if he had met any over the summer. However, Draco Malfoy was always hovering nearby. Isabelle did well in this class also. They studied a rather likeable creature; a Clabbert. It looked like a cross between a monkey and a frog, mottled green, long limbs, webbed feet and hands, short horns, and a large pustule on its forehead. Hagrid had clearly been told not to have any really dangerous creatures that year. Since he probably didn't want to get on the bad side of the school governors, he listened. Harry watched from the corner of his eye as Isabelle fed hers a few small lizards with tender care, even whispering it something. He pretended to need some more lizards and went past Isabelle. She was saying to the ugly thing 'come now, eat it, good little boy, all gone …'. He looked for just a glance and saw her pat its head. He smiled and then his eyes turned to the other Malfoy, who was practically force-feeding his. He shook his head at the difference between the twins. Isabelle had the darker colouring, but clearly the kinder heart.

In the evening Harry was scheduled to meet Isabelle again. He was waiting on the sofa for everyone to leave the room and he decided to just relax his eyes a bit. However, he must have fallen asleep, as he woke up for Isabelle's gentle shaking.

"I'm sorry to wake you. If you're tired, just go up to sleep," she motioned upstairs as she stood by him.

"No, I'm not that tired. Sit down." Harry sat up and patted the sofa next to him.

She sat down and looked into the fire a bit. She was obviously lost in thought and Harry couldn't do anything but look at the beauty of her form as the flames from the fireplace danced on her. Isabelle's dark eyes seemed to capture them and as the dark orbs perfectly mirrored their play, Harry couldn't help but suspect that her inner being was just as much on fire. He decided to break her out of it and searched around in his mind far a topic to start the conversation with.

"Snape said that you're a good student. Top grades in everything," he finally said.

"Well, yeah. You see, I didn't have any friends to distract me. I couldn't play with them, or have fun. So instead I concentrated on studying," she told him after looking up to him.

"Oh. I'm sorry," he cringed, perhaps talking about this was not a good idea.

"It's ok, Harry. After a while I got used to it. Besides, they weren't that likeable there anyway," she shrugged off his concern.

"What did Snape want with you?"

"I'm going to have extra classes of Potions on Friday late afternoons. Just when you have a class with your aunt. Funny, isn't it?" she smiled.

"You actually can't wait," Harry noticed, bewildered that she would want to spend her free time like that.

"Yes. Oh, I've just learned something about Professor Snape," she perked up, obviously excited to share something with him. Harry supposed she didn't often have a chance to simply chat with someone." Imagine, he had a younger sister. I noticed a picture on his desk in his office. On it, he was standing next to a pretty woman. He saw me looking at her and told me that she was his sister and her name was Serena. She died a long time ago. He didn't say how and I didn't want to ask."

"I wonder … If she was pretty, she must have looked odd next to Snape," Harry grinned at his own joke.

"He did have the greasy hair, but he didn't look so thin and was altogether brighter," she frowned at his joke. Oh, Harry, it's so odd that he was so nice to me and so horrid to you. Why does he pick on you like that?" She seemed genuinely concerned about this.

"Oh, he and dad were enemies when they were both coming to Hogwarts," he shrugged.

"He shouldn't judge you by your father."

"Everyone is doing that to you," Harry said with understanding.

"Yes, but … Everyone can see that you are a nice person and …"

"It's all right, Isabelle. I'm used to it. So you were telling me about your extra potions class." He was getting uncomfortable with where the conversation was going and decided to rivert back to where he originally started from.

"Yes. Anyway, I always did like mixing potions. Did you know that Professor Snape is a very famous potions master? He has developed a couple himself. I really can't believe he is willing to privately instruct a Gryffindor. Especially a girl." Her eyes were shining with happiness.

"You are a Malfoy and I don't think he really counts you among us. What did you mean by, 'especially a girl'?"

"Well, you see in Death Eater and conservative families' girls often aren't educated much. If they are allowed to go to school, they aren't allowed to work after it. Usually they are taken out when they get married."

"When do they get married to be still in school?"

"Around sixteen."

"Isn't that early?" Harry was amazed. How could anyone make such a commitment so soon in life.

"No. You see; these are arranged marriages. Sixteen is above the age of consent, which is fifteen, but before the girl would be a legal adult at seventeen and free of the will of her father," she continued to educate him of the Wizarding Word.

"Will they marry you to someone when you're sixteen?"

"Probably," her voice was small.

Harry almost said that he wouldn't allow it, but didn't feel it appropriate. Instead, he remained silent and hoped it would not be so.

"Harry, tell me about yourself. About your previous years in Hogwarts," it seemed that the subject disturbed her thus she changed it.

He did as she asked. Her dark eyes were fixed on him as she listened to his every word. He only told a little bit of his first year that night before they went upstairs. Preparing for sleep, Harry remembered to take his potion. He knew that if he didn't, he would dream of some dreadful things about any of the topics they had discussed that night.

The next few days were spent in a similar fashion. Harry kept watching Isabelle when he could, especially during the boring History of Magic classes. Hermione would watch as her elegant hand glided over the paper taking meticulous notes. While his hands were always covered in ink, especially at the fingertips, her slender fingers stayed as immaculately white as the beautiful white-owl quill she used. In the evenings, they met and talked, mostly him telling stories of what had happened to him in Hogwarts. He did look forward to these. Their time together was filled with fun and laughter. Harry discovered that she did have a great sense of humour that had many layers. Sometimes she teased him, then cause a touch of irony, other stories brought out her intelligent sarcasm, but she could still giggle at him tripping and falling flat on his face. Indeed, his nights were wonderful and he found himself gracing closer to her and wishing that their relationship could e brought into the light of day. Another thing that he could hardly wait for was Oya's tutoring on Friday. When it finally arrived and he was standing in front of her office, full of anticipation. So he knocked on the door.

She opened it, dressed in Muggle clothes; a green T-shirt that said 'I love the Goddess' and blue jeans. Harry could hardly surpass a snicker.

"Hi there, Harry!" she called happily.

"Hello Aunt Oya!" he returned it in a similar fashion.

"Come on inside." She stepped away from the door.

He went in and sat down on the sofa. Oya joined him and took a calming breath.

"Harry, first, you need to know a few things, before we start and then you have to tell me a few things. Oh, I did it again! I keep repeating words. Oh, well, anyway, so the magic comes from you, not from your wand. Now isn't that obvious?" she asked, but as Harry tried to answer it, she went on, indicating that she meant it as a rhetoric question. "If the wand held the magic, Muggles could use them! Wizards and witches only use wands to focus their magic into the core and then channel it. The same goes for spells. Those help the focus and the visualisation. Now in wandless magic, what you really do is focus the magic inside you and visualise without a spell. It is not easy, needs a lot of concentration. I have heard about your Patronus and that is proof that you can really concentrate and the magic is strong within you. Now, you have done lots of accidental magic probably. Tell me about them," she requested.

"Well, I once turned one of my teachers' wigs blue," he blushed at the memory.

She started laughing at this and it filled her office. Harry first stared at her and then joined his aunt.

"That's a good one! Blue!" she said while laughing. After a while she forced herself to stop. "Ok, tell me another one."

"Well, I've done a lot with my hair. Uncle Vernon always said that I needed a haircut and I was taken to the barber's a lot of times, but always came back looking the same way," he remembered.

"Oh, that's actually an inheritable curse."

"It is?" Harry was surprised. He never thought that his hair could be cursed to behave the way it did.

"Yeah. A few generations back, I think it was your … great great grandfather, so he was very proud of his hair, which was a shiny black and stuck to his head like a helmet. So there was this witch, whom he charmed and … bedded. She wanted him to marry her, but he refused, so she cursed his hair to be always messy and that every men of his descendent, who would bear the Potter name, would have the same hair. He tried to break the curse, but as stupid as she was when it came to men, she was twice as clever when it came to curses." She laughed a little, but Harry couldn't find it fumy.

"That sounds like a fairy tale."

"Yeah, but it's true. So if you'll have a son, he's bound to have the same hair. So, what happened with your hair?" she encouraged him to go on.

"One time, when I came back like that, my Aunt Petunia took out the scissors and almost cut me bald. I looked really horrible. However, it all grew back by morning, when I had to go to school."

"Your aunt and uncle do seem horrible. I've never met them."

"It could have been worse." He thought a bit of Isabelle's frightened eyes.

"I suppose. Go on, tell me more," she urged him on.

"All right. Once Dudley and his gang …" he began.

"Wait, who's Dudley?" she stopped his story.

"My cousin."

"Oh. Dudley Dursley. What an imagination." She smiled at the wordplay.

"So they were chasing me in school."

"Why?" Oya interrupted again.

"That was their favourite sport. I was faster and could hide better."

"Did they beat you?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Just a bit," she shrugged it off.

"Oh." She suddenly looked sad.

"It's ok. So they were chasing me and I suddenly found myself sitting on the chimney." He grinned at the memory of the boy's stunned faces.

"On the chimney? You apparated as an accidental magic?" She seemed very excited. "Are you aware of how rare that is?! That's very strong magic!"

"It is?" Harry was amazed. He had never thought of what sort of magic he'd done then. Apparating was supposed to be hand.

"Of course! Now I know that you'll be great at wandless magic, you just need to train your mind." Her excitement persisted and her eyes twinkled as she gazed at him.

"Isn't that the hard part?" Harry wondered out level.

"It is. However, I wanted to know that we have enough to work with. Let me see, where should we begin? …." She seemed to think for a while. "Ok. Let's begin with Wingardium Leviosa. It's a simple spell." She magicked a small stone into her hand from her desk and put it on the floor in front of Harry. "Now, with your wand, raise it."

Harry did the spell and raised it about a foot, then let it down. It went easily enough, he'd done it many times by then.

"Good. Now, do it again, but concentrate on what you are really doing. Like how you visualise, how the magic flows through you and into your wand," she instructed.

"All right." He considered her words.

Harry began to concentrate. He could first see the stone rise in his mind, then as he said the spell, he could feel the magic go from him into the wand. He only raised it a bit.

"Did you feel it?" Oya asked, when he was done.

"Yes," Harry said, still awed at the experience.

"All right, now give me your wand." She held out a hand to him.

He reluctantly gave it to her. He almost felt naked. All he could do was just to watch the precious slim wood rest in his Aunt's hand. He shivered a bit, a drop of sweat leaving his forehead. Like a junkie wanting a fix. It was cold, because during the summers he didn't even take it out much from its secret hiding place; the loose floor-board under the bed. However, in such a magical place as Hogwarts it was a very different thing. He watched as Oya Potter. She stood up and walked over to the small fountain. She put the wand between the statues of the women and then returned to her seat.

"Now, try to do it again. Except, direct your magic with your hand and don't say the spell. You don't really need it."

Harry looked at the stone, saw in his mind's eye the way it rose, but nothing happened.

"I can't," he said after a few minutes of trying.

"Do you feel the magic flow in you?" she asked, patiently.

"No," he admitted.

"That's the though part. For that to happen, we need a little Muggle technique."

"Muggle technique?" Harry was surprised. How could anything Muggle be of use in wandless magic?

"Yes. You see, the main difference between Muggles and Wizards is that Muggles have normal energies, Wizards and Witches have magical ones. Muggles can move their energies by will within themselves. Or at least some of them can. Now, you have to learn as well, how to control the energy within you. Frankly, I had done it before I learned about it by instinct, so I may have a hard time explaining to you. The only way I can think of making you feel the energy is that you have to put your palms almost together, about half an inch apart," she demonstrated it for him.

Harry did as told.

"Close your eyes. Concentrate. Feel the warmth in your hands. Your body heat. That is your energy. Tell me when you can feel it."

Harry concentrated. Then, miraculously, he could feel it. The warmth was buzzing in his hands, his skin started to prickle as he was concentrating on it.

"I can feel it!" he happily exclaimed.

"Great, I knew you could do it. Now, feel it again and try to make it flow from one hand to the other."

Harry felt the warmth again, then tried to make it flow. However, it wouldn't move. He concentrated harder, but it still didn't. After a while he felt tired and stopped.

"I can't do it." He felt very disappointed in himself.

"Of course you can, Harry, you just need to have a better grasp of it. It takes time and practice. You sort of have to get aquatinted with your energy. You don't have to try right now. Do it when you're alone, before you go to sleep. If you try it often and hard enough, suddenly, you'll be able to do it. So, my suggestion is that you go and study, or have fun now and come back next week and we'll see how you've done," she suggested.

"Ok." He stood up to leave. He was a bit relieved that he didn't have to succeed right away, but was still disappointed in himself.

"Don't get discouraged Harry. It took you time to do the Patronus as well, no?" Oya reminded him, see in his long face.

"Yes," he admitted. He remembered all too well the night he cast his first Patronus.

She got up and went to get his wand. She handed it over to him and then suddenly, she hugged him. She let him go and ruffled his hair a bit.

"Practice, practice, practice. Also, have a nice weekend. I've heard about you being captain of the Quidditch team. I hope you find a good keeper. I haven't seen a game in … decades. Is the first game still between Gryffindor and Slytherin usually?"

"Yes," it is. We have always won, in spite of their rule-breaking."

"Well then, you have some task ahead of you. I'm proud of you for everything that you have done in the past years. You've accomplished things that would have been difficult for even an adult. I'm sure you'll get the hang of wandless magic soon enough."

"Thank you." He went to the door and opened it. He was just about to step into the corridor, when Oya called after him.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so forgetful! I have a present for you."

Harry closed the door and looked at his aunt, who had gone over to her desk and got a small black box out of a drawer.

"This has been passed down the men in the family for generations. James didn't take it with him to Godric's Hollow. It stayed at the mansion." She looked at him.

"There's a mansion?" Harry asked in wonder.

"Yes, where your dad and I grew up. It's on an unplottable Scottish island. Muggles don't go there. The house-elves must be keeping it in good condition. Some day you can go and live there. Anyway, I thought you should have this." She handed him the box.

Harry noticed that it was like a jewellery case. He opened it and inside was a golden pocket watch.

"It shows time just like a Muggle watch, but it has all the necessary enchantments on it. Like unbreakable and that sort of thing," Oya informed him.

Harry took it out of the box and gave the case to Oya. He popped the watch open and saw that it was eight o'clock.

"Thank you," he said, still staring at the simple, but beautiful object.

"It belongs to you. See?" She pointed at the other side of its inside.

There in beautiful magical letters it said "Property of Harry James Potter".

"But how…?" Harry couldn't understand how his name could be already engraved into the pocket watch.

"Oh, a simple spell. It always has the name of the oldest male Potter on it. Some day, Harry, when you'll be old and near death, you'll give it to your oldest son," she said, putting her hand on his arm.

"You think I'll grow old?" With Voldemort around, Harry wasn't so sure himself.

"Sure. I'll make sure of that," she said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder." Now, go. You must have things to do, I don't want to keep you."

"Bye, Aunt Oya!" Harry said, turning towards the door.

"Bye Harry!"

He went out and headed towards the Common Room. He really did hope that he would get wandless magic right. He remembered the time when he lay at Voldemort's mercy, unable to move. If he had known how to do magic with only his thought, maybe Voldemort wouldn't be back.

In the evening he met Isabelle again and told her that he made little progress with wandless magic. He also showed her the watch that he got. She said it was beautiful. She on the other hand had learned a new potion recipe that they would only have next year. She said that Snape was actually nice to her and praised her talent. She was very happy about that. After they closed that subject, they began talking about Harry's adventures again.

Saturday came and went with studying and playing. Harry thought that he would have liked it very much if Isabelle could have joined them instead of sitting in a corner reading. In the evening she revealed it to him that she was in fact watching them the whole time. He asked her if she was unhappy that she couldn't join them, but she told him that she was used to just observing and got her joys from that.

Harry woke with the thought of Quidditch on his mind on Sunday after a good potion-helped sleep. After getting dressed, he got his broom out of his trunk and looked at it. As usual, his Firebolt was in excellent condition. No twigs were stuck in the wrong way, the handle gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the window. It was a perfect day to hold a tryout. Maybe a bit too perfect, since it wasn't often that they had such beautiful weather during the matches.

Harry went down to the field - after a good breakfast - and looked around. There were over twenty people, who wanted to try to get into the team. Ron was there, with his ancient broom. The twins had told Harry that they wanted to give their brother a new broom, but because of Voldemort someone was always around. However, if Ron made the team, they would order him one by mail and sign it as a supporter of the team. Of course, this did put a considerable strain on Harry. Ron was his friend and he had been dreaming of becoming a Quidditch player for quite some time. He had also wanted a new broom. Now the fate of both rested partly on Quidditch Captain Harry Potter. Luckily, there were five other people he could consult with. He only hoped that Ron was the best for Keeper.

Harry decided to first visit the changing room and then start. Inside, he found the other members of the team. After quickly pulling on his cloak, he decided to ask them about the procedure.

"Guys, how do you usually do this?"

"It depends on the position," Alicia answered him.

"Hmm. What if we separate them first based on what position they would like to try for and make a team of them. Then you and they play a little, while I watch from above. Of course, you guys could keep your eyes peeled as well."

"All right Harry," they answered him. Harry was glad that his directions were taken so well.

The team went to the field and Harry stepped to the waiting candidates.

"You are to form Quidditch teams among you. The team is going to play against you. Take the positions you are applying for. In case you don't know, take the most likely position. I will be watching you from above," he instructed.

There was some murmuring in the group as they tried to form teams. When they seemed to be ready, Harry spoke to the people before him.

"When you're ready, take your starting positions and I'll take care of the balls," he informed them.

Harry got the twins to help him take out the box with the balls. He first took the Quaffle out and placed it next to the container. He was standing in the middle of the field and looking around he realised that the probationary team was set. The original team stood up as well. That was when Harry noticed his blunder. He had to put someone at the goalposts of the original team. He was a bit mad at himself for making such a mistake. Anyway, he went to the candidates and asked them who wanted to be a Keeper. A couple of people put their hands up. Ron was already defending for the other team. To his surprise, Harry noticed a small, rather ugly girl among them. She looked better physically equipped for a Seeker. Harry didn't often label people as ugly, but this time he really couldn't say anything else to her appearance. She had an indescribable colour of hair, somewhere between brown and grey, which she wore in two ponytails on either side of her head, held together by bright red ribbons. She looked at him with bulging brown eyes that sat far apart above a large nose. Under that her wide mouth was open, the thick lips framing teeth standing in an unruly way. Hermione's parents would have fainted at the sight. The only thing on her head that was small almost to the level of non-existence, was her chin. Her head was in a stark contrast to her body, on which everything was small. To his own surprise, Harry found himself choosing her as the Keeper.

The game began when Harry released the Bludgers and then the Quaffle. He flew up very high to observe the others. He was not only looking at how well they were doing in the game, but also the potential. The whole process took most of the day. Slowly the bad ones were sorted out, then the not-so-bad ones and only the good remained, and luckily, just as Harry wanted. Three Chasers, two Beaters and a Keeper.

Ron didn't make it into the primary team. He wasn't a bad Keeper, but he wasn't a very good one either. On the other hand, he was a great Chaser, so he was selected as a reserve-in-training, to Harry's relief.

The greatest surprise was the ugly girl, Keaira Gael was her name, as they learned. She was even a better Keeper than Oliver Wood. On her Nimbus 2000 she could catch the Quaffle before it reached the hoops no matter who threw it. It was amazing and there was no question, who should get into the team.

Harry decided to talk things over with Keaira and get to know her, so he approached her when they headed back tot he castle.

"Keaira, you're an outstanding Keeper. I'm glad to have you on our team," Harry smiled warmly into her horrible face.

"Thank you." She beamed at him and he tried hard not to show the disgust he felt.

"Which year are you in?" he asked.

"Second."

"That's good. Then you can be with the team for six more years. How did you learn to keep so well?" Harry was curious to know.

"I don't really know. I was good at it the first time I tried. I just seem to know by instinct where the Chaser is going to throw the Quaffle."

"When did you first play?" he cocked his head with interest. Apparently she played by her instincts just as he did.

"When I was six. I went to my grandma's and played with my cousins. That was the first time they let me play with them. Of course, from then on they always asked me to be the Keeper," she smiled happily at the memory.

"Are you from an all Wizarding family then?"

"Yes. I heard that you had a similar experience with seeking."

"I had. From the first time I mounted a broom; I could ride it. I had no problem catching small, fast moving objects either."

"Then it seems like we are alike in something," she seemed excited at the fact.

"Why couldn't you play at home?" he wondered out-level.

"I grew up in London, the Wizarding part, and it's forbidden to use a broom there. Too much Muggle air traffic."

"I see. I can assure you that you'll have plenty of opportunities to play from now on," Harry told her truthfully. However, he was a bit concerned about how her eyes gleamed at that information.

To be continued … 


	7. Acquiring Knowledge

**Author's Notes:** Join the mailing list for this story! http://groups. Get updates, see what's going on with my progress. 

**Chapter 7: Acquiring Knowledge**

Harry woke on Monday morning feeling happy about the new Keeper. Sure, she was ugly, but when she had to protect Gryffindor's hoops, it wouldn't matter. Ron had said that maybe she would scare off the Bludgers. Hermione hit him for this. Harry only snickered.

The morning passed as usual and they chatted happily at the breakfast table after having been greeted by Oya. However, when Harry happened to glance up to the teachers' table, he noticed a stranger sitting there. He brought the man to the attention of the others as well.

"Oh my!" was Hermione's first reaction.

The boys gave her a look for it. She didn't notice them, she just kept staring at the man.

Harry looked at him and tried to figure out what made her react that way and gave her eyes the twinkle he hadn't seen since Lockhart. He was blond and blue-eyed, with his hair cut short and spiky. His face did have smooth features, a smiling mouth. His body was lean and even sitting he was tall. Harry decided that the man did look like the kind that women usually considered handsome.

"Who do you think he could be?" Harry asked his friends.

"He's probably connected to Professor Flitwick," Hermione said, not taking her eyes off him, "he's chatting with him after all."

"What's odd is that he's older and is sitting up there, but he's wearing student robes," Ron observed.

They all fell silent, looking at each other to say something. When no one had spoken for a while, Harry and Ron started to talk about the Quidditch book for captains. Hermione just kept looking at the man, seemingly mesmerised by him, finding it hard to eat at the same time. She kept missing the food on her plate with the fork and drank from an empty goblet for a couple of second, before noticing that there wasn't any juice flowing into her mouth.

After some self-discovery and revision in DADA, they returned to the Gryffindor table to have lunch. Soon the twins joined them, clearly having some news. Hermione managed to tear herself away from the blond man in order to acknowledge their presence.

"What is it?" Ron asked them.

"Well, this morning we had Charms. That mysterious blond chap was there too," George informed them.

Hermione looked up at this, clearly anxious to hear what the boys were talking about.

"He's a student teacher," George went on. "He's here to learn how to teach charms. He sat behind us and stared at our necks Creepy."

"Oh, his name is Regis Niemi," Fred pepped in.

They beamed at the little gossip they knew.

"Do you know anything more about him?" Hermione asked when they became silent.

"He did mention that he was Finnish, but his mother was an English witch." Fred furrowed his brow, trying to remember more.

"That's not much." Hermione was clearly not satisfied, her face fell so. So she turned her eyes back on the handsome blond wizard.

The boys looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Clearly another Lockhart was in sight.

On Thursday evening Harry and Isabelle met again in the Common Room. By this time she seemed more at ease in his presence. She took off her slippers, revealing small white feet with long toes, and folded her legs under her. Harry had also grown accustomed to her and enjoyed discussing his day and life with her. This time he wanted to talk about what happened at Charms that morning.

"What did you think of Charms today?" he asked her casually.

"You mean, what did I think of Regis Niemi?" she looked at him with a sly smile.

"Well, yes," Harry admitted. "You seem to be good at judging people's characters at first sight. Did you try to capture his eyes in yours?" Harry was listening closely, not taking his eyes off her. As usual, she avoided looking at him and decided to observe the fire.

"I did try, but he kept looking away. I didn't like that. I didn't like him either." Her hands moved nervously in her lap.

"You seem to be the only girl with that opinion," he pointed out.

"I know. I've seen the way they were all drooling over him. However, there's something about him … I can't really tell what it is, but I don't like him." She seemed very sure in her opinion.

"Hermione does."

"Jealous?" she smiled.

"Why would I be?" He was surprised.

"Because of Hermione. She's pretty, clever and charming. A great friend too. I may not talk to people, but I listen. Many of them are convinced that there is something more going on between you two." She fell silent, looking into his face. The moment felt tense.

"Oh, well, they're wrong. Just as you've said. She's a great friend, but I don't have romantic feelings towards her." He put a stress on 'romantic'.

"Then you still have that crush on Cho?" Her voice was quiet, a bit scared. Perhaps of the answer?

"No, I'm past that. I was with her boyfriend when he died. That kind of … put an end to that. I don't feel that way towards anyone now."

She seemed a bit relieved at that. Or had just Harry imagined it?

"Well, that is bound to change." She bit her lower lip and looked at her hands.

"Are you talking about the cards?" He wondered where this conversation was going. She seemed to care a lot about his love life, well beyond the level of a usual friendship. He felt excited about that, but forced it down.

"Not just that. You're fifteen. It's time for you to have your first relationship. Besides, you're more mature than most boys of your age." She smiled a bit and dared a side-glance at him, but averted her eyes as they met his.

"I don't think I should. My life is too complicated even without a relationship." His voice rang a bit uncertain.

"Harry, if you find someone you can love, then in a way that can make things easier. It can make you happy. Besides, according to the cards, love is at your doorstep and you already know the girl. Perhaps you'll change your mind about Hermione." She sounded anxious to convince him, really concerned.

"I don't think so. You believe in the cards so much?"

Isabelle smiled a little at that.

"Well, they haven't failed me so far. I was quite surprised when they said friendship was on its way for me. Look at us! They were right," she looked into his eyes, but quickly broke away.

"We'll see," he said uncertainly. A trail of thought began in his head about who the cards could have spoken about, but he quickly broke it. Neither of them needed that.

"Hmmm, Harry, I've heard Hermione say that she had written a letter to Krum," she said.

"Yes. No reply so far." He was strangely glad that they had changed the subject. He had started to feel odd, as if they were both struggling to keep something away from the surface.

"Did Krum try to establish a romantic relationship with her?" Isabelle enquired quickly.

"He did. However, she turned him down and proposed friendship."

"Has she heard from him since then?"

"No. You seem worried about Hermione."

"She's your friend and seems like a nice person. I don't want her to get hurt either physically or emotionally." Harry could feel that there was something left unsaid in that statement. He thought of asking her what she was hiding, but decided not to push it.

"I think you'd be great friends if you got the chance. I see you don't agree with your family's opinion on Muggle-borns." He smiled about the fact that she was different from her brother, remembering the first time Draco Malfoy called Hermione 'mudblood'.

"I don't. I really never could understand why someone would be superior just because he or she was born into a Wizarding family. Look at Hermione! She's a powerful witch and a Muggle-born." She glanced at him and smiled brightly.

"Hmm. I think Hermione likes blond guys," Harry stated.

"Why?" she looked surprised at his statement.

"Lockhart was blond and now this Naomi, or whatever, is blond as well."

"That doesn't mean that she prefers blonds. Women usually see the whole man, not just the hair colour," she sounded a bit offended at that, as if Harry had insulted her.

"Oh, all right. I suppose I don't really know how girls think, or women." He felt awful.

"Tell me more about Lockhart," she said it with a small smile, clearly anticipating a good story.

Harry did, relieved that she wasn't mad at him and they delved into the past once more.

The coming weeks passed in a comfortable routine for Harry. He went to classes, did homework, played with Ron and Hermione. Every night he talked to Isabelle, then practised a bit of wandless magic alone and went to sleep with the help of the potion. They often held Quidditch practices. Keaira kept up her good form, Ron got better at chasing. The reserves learned to play with the other members of the team and Harry was glad to see them progress well. However, he was making no progress himself. He wasn't doing any better at wandless magic in spite of all the trying. This frustrated him, but Oya kept telling him not to worry and go on trying. During this time the only thing to break the monotony was a strange behaviour; Keaira's. Wherever Harry went, she kept popping up. Once he had to send her to bed by referring to Quidditch, because he was waiting for Isabelle.

October came and one day over his DADA homework Harry decided to look a bit more into the people he had recently met, even though that wasn't the real assignment. This was something that Oya encouraged. So he started with her. Oya, at present, was a nice woman. She was very vivid, very alive. Since her excursion to the Muggle world she was passionate about all sorts of Muggle things. Oya was very open about herself and about sex. Sometimes disturbingly so. Once she admitted to them during class that she revealed so much of herself, so that they could really know what a Death Eater could be like. However, she did keep a couple of secrets, which were more interesting in the light of her personality. They still hadn't got any closer to finding out who Ares was. She was always nice to all of the students and wasn't fazed by Fred's and George's antics. She seemed to have even softened towards Snape, because they could be seen talking during dinner one night. After that the Potions lessons improved as well. That was all Harry could recall about her.

The second person he put under the magnifying glass was Isabelle. Now she was a private matter. She was as good a student as Hermione, even a bit better due to her unusual talent for Potions. Of course, during the day she was always reading. If not a textbook, then some other educational book. She was always quiet, never said a word to anyone, unless asked and only the teachers ever did. She sometimes talked to Draco on the corridors, but only briefly. At night she was a bit more alive, but still reserved. When compared with Oya; they were opposites. Where Oya talked a lot very animatedly, Isabelle just said what had to be and hardly made a move. She did get more relaxed around Harry, but it was only shown by her smile and posture. She was clever and knew a lot. She avoided talking about herself, which was strange. Harry discovered that all he knew about her feelings was that she liked him, Potions, studying, feared her father and hated Voldemort, but didn't really fear him. She once said that she wanted his downfall and if she feared him, it would stop her from helping it. That was a bit of an odd statement and he didn't quite understand what she had meant by it. However, she couldn't help fearing her father, because he held her life directly in his hands.

The third new person in his life was Keaira. She was a shy little girl, but very confident on the Quidditch field. He couldn't really understand why she was following him around and this disturbed him. Harry had tried asking her about it, but she pretended not to understand. Otherwise he didn't know much about her as a person.

The fourth person was Regis in a way. He didn't have much to do with Harry or his classes. He just helped sometimes with practical things during the Charms lessons, so that they could get more done in the set four hours. However, the love-struck girls were still swooning over him. Harry saw Hermione talk with him, but she said that they only discussed school. From the way she said it, there seemed to be something more behind it. Once she even had a private lesson with Regis, which was uncommon and odd. Harry didn't like the man at all. He was too sleek.

It was early in the evening on October 10th and Harry tried wandless magic in the dormitory for one uptenth time. No one had chosen to retire yet and he felt anxious to do it already. So he drew the curtains around his bed to get a little privacy. He tried to relax. He concentrated on his magic as he stretched out his hand towards a sock. Then he felt it. The magic stirred inside him and he managed to lead it towards his hand, then out of it. He saw with his mind's eye the sock in front of him lift up into the air and surprisingly the real one followed suit. He suddenly got so excited that he dropped it back on the bed. He tried again and this time it all happened much faster, much more easily. He couldn't believe that after all that trying he finally managed to do it. He just had to tell it to Aunt Oya right away. He got onto his feet and took out the Marauders' Map from his trunk. He performed the magic with his wand this time and searched for a dot labelled "Oya Potter". He did find it. She was walking down a corridor not far from her office. As he watched, he noticed that she wasn't heading towards it, but away from it. He took the invisibility cloak out as well, in case he stayed late and with the help of the map set out to follow her.

After some chasing he finally neared her just as she walked into Snape's office. He stopped there, not wanting to go inside and disturb them. He thought of leaving, but his curiosity kept him there.

"Oya, what are you doing here?" came Snape's gentle voice from the office.

"I wanted to talk about last night," was her answer.

"You want to continue from where we left off?"

"No, Severus. I think it was a mistake." She sounded agitated.

"I think that it was wonderful. Just like old times. The kisses, the hugs, the heat of your body. …. Don't you want to feel like that again?" Harry was again taken aback by how seductive Snape's voice could be if he wanted it. He also felt himself blush at his words.

"Last night for me wasn't about you. It was about Ares. I felt alone and miserable. I wanted to share my pain with the only person who knows the meaning of October 9th, the tragedy of that anniversary. It was about that for me, nothing else. I was hurting to my core and I wanted some comforting," she sounded anxious, confused and sad at the same time.

Harry was excited that the conversation was turning to Ares. Maybe now he would find out the truth about the guy.

"Oya, you know that I want to be together with you again," he was pleading.

"I don't. Severus, we've been through this once."

"For Ares' memory?"

"Don't use him like this!" she cried. "He was the only pure thing in my life. He was my son and I loved him like no one else before or after." She was mad and sad at the same time.

"He was my son too." Harry barely heard that statement, but he felt struck by a lightning when he did.

"Yes, but you don't act like it. Even then you wanted to continue the lie that was our relationship. After he died, everything changed. He died because of me, I know it. The way I was … It is true, everything comes back three times. I killed, Severus! We both did. For that we had to pay with the life of our son. When he died, everything between us died too!" there were tears and fury in her voice.

"Oya…" he began, but Harry could see on the map that she was heading towards the open door of the office. He quickly put the invisibility cloak on and Oya rushed right past him. He looked inside and saw Snape standing there, utterly bewildered.

Harry again found himself feeling sorry for him, but as quietly as he could, he left. He saw Oya heading towards her office and followed her. On a corridor he took off the cloak and put it back in his pocket. When he reached her office, he knocked on the door. It took her a while to open it. When he saw her, he felt very awful. Her eyes were puffy from crying and she really looked out-of-sorts.

"Oh, hi Harry. What is it? Oh, I … come in," she was stuttering, which was very unusual for her.

"I just wanted to tell you some good news. Maybe I should come back later?" Harry looked uncertainly at her. She noticed and seemed to straighten her spine, to look more confident.

"No, I could use some good news." She swallowed her tears.

"Hmm. Are you all right?" he asked as he entered the office.

"No, but if I talk about it, I'll start crying again. So you ought to tell the good news." She closed the door behind him.

"All right, however, I'd rather show you."

Harry took out his wand and placed it on the fountain. He stepped to the desk and concentrated on the picture sitting there, his hand stretched towards it. It slowly, but surely, rose into the air, then it gently landed back in its place. When he was finished, Harry looked at Oya. She was clearly amazed, then she rushed to him and hugged him.

"You did it! That's so wonderful! I can't believe that you've finally done it! I mean, I knew you could!" she looked excited as she broke away from him. The tears were gone.

"What should I do now?" Harry looked questioningly at his aunt.

"Well, I think you should try other spells the same way that we have done with this one. What is another spell that you're good at?" She turned away from him, taking out a handkerchief and then blew her nose. She looked back at him and smiled.

"Accio. I used that during the Triwizard Tournament. It took me a while to learn."

"All right, there's a pillow on the couch. Make it fly into your hand." She pointed at one of the soft pillows.

"But how?" Harry was puzzled, he still knew so little about the practical side of wandless magic.

"Simple. You concentrate on the pillow, direct your magic towards it and make it fly to you. It's a lot like Wingardium Leviosa." She threw her hands up in the air, indicating how easy it was.

Harry did it just as Oya told him and the pillow nearly knocked him over. Oya laughed a little and he was glad to see the old light back in her eyes.

"Not with such force, Harry! You see, with this training, your magic can reach its full potential."

"Really? I'm not that good at spells." Harry was amazed. Could he be better at magic, than what he was doing during the normal classes?

"You just need a different technique. Now, try it with your eyes closed."

Harry looked perplexed.

"How?"

"You just need to see the pillow inside. During the Tournament, did you see the object that you made come to you?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"No. I just said the words."

"What was it?"

"My Firebolt."

"Oh, you have a Firebolt?" Her eyes lit up.

"Yes."

"How did you get such a wonderful broom? I saw it in Diagon Alley when I got some new robes there and books." She was genuinely excited about the broom.

"Oh, my godfather got it for me."

"Sirius? You like him?" She looked genuinely startled.

"Yes, a lot."

She said nothing, just smiled for a brief moment and then her face got serious again.

"Let's get back to business. Where was your Firebolt?"

"In my dormitory."

"All right, now recall when you did that and do the same thing with the pillow while your eyes are closed," she instructed.

Harry remembered and stretched his arm towards the pillow, his eyes closed. He also tried to do it more gently this time. The pillow flew to him just as he wanted.

"You see Harry, the magic is at your will now. Let's try more spells." She was almost hopping with joy and enthusiasm. Harry almost laughed at her girlish manner.

They did wandless magic, until they were so tired, neither of them could concentrate anymore.

"Let's stop, Harry," Oya suggested, clearly exhausted, but smiling brightly. She sat down on the couch.

"I am tired. Aunt Oya, when will we learn transfiguration? Is that even possible without a wand?" He sat down next to her and looked into her eyes. She looked back.

"Yes it is. It's just very complicated. …. When you're able to do a Patronus without a wand, we'll move onto transfiguration. …. Because then you have to delve into the very structure of the thing with your magic." She was panting a bit.

"Oh. Ok. Can I use wandless magic in class?"

"No, Harry. Just like me, you'd better not advertise this. Remember, the secret weapon."

"All right." He was a bit disappointed, though as he thought of it, some people would call him names if he did. "When I'm able to do transfigurations, what will we do?"

"We'll move onto mind magic. It's what I did with the picture on our first night, remember?"

Harry thought back and could recall the picture floating to Oya without her even looking at it or changing her posture.

"That looked very hard."

"It is. However, you've taken a great first step tonight and rather fast. It took me two weeks of almost non-stop trying and I couldn't concentrate for long." She smiled and Harry could see that she was somewhere else in her mind. "Elias often said that if I wasn't so stubborn in wanting to learn it, I never would have. I wonder how he is. I'll owl him. Anyway, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. Then we'll start on the special spells."

"Special spells?"

"Yes, Harry." She got very serious and made him look into her eyes. She was a bit taller even sitting, than he was. "You can't tell about them to anyone. Friends, Dumbledore, no one. The old guy would take my head if he knew I wanted to teach you those spells. However, I think you might need them. Things like elemental magic, which can only be done by hand, or sun and moon magic. There are things that require mind magic." She seemed a bit nervous to be talking about it.

"Is it dark magic?" He was getting very curious.

"It depends on how you use it." She had clearly thought about the matter much. "In my opinion, the term 'dark magic' is wrong. For example, if you use the Avada Kedavra to kill Voldemort, you're not doing a bad thing, are you?"

"Well, … I don't really know." Harry put his hand to his chin, thinking about it for a moment.

"You would only be doing a great service to the world. I would gladly do it. At least I would make amends for…" She looked away and Harry could see that she was biting her lower lip. "However, that is probably still a long way off. I'd wager about two years, depending on how well you proceed. You'd better go back. …. It's getting awfully late!" She looked at her watch. "How will you get back to your Common Room? Should I walk with you?"

"No, I'll use my invisibility cloak." He smiled and took it out from under his robe.

"The invisibility cloak? James'?" Harry nodded. She took it from his hands and lovingly caressed it a bit. "Where has it been all these years?"

"Dumbledore had it. He gave it to me on my first Christmas here."

"Oh, that reminds me. Do you have a Hogsmeade permit?" She gave him back the cloak.

"Yes I do."

"I thought your aunt and uncle wouldn't sign it." Oya was surprised.

"They didn't, but Sirius did."

"That was all right?"

"Yes. He's my godfather and Dumbledore knew about him anyway."

"Sirius. I wonder how he is now. I haven't met him for years. The last time we met I was packing my bags … or actually, I was wearing a hood. The last time I saw him I was wearing a Death Eater's hood and he was fighting one of my colleagues." She looked in front of her, clearly feeling awful about it.

"I met him last month. He looked fine, though I have no idea where he lives now. He also sent me a birthday present." He decided to move the conversation a bit away from where it was going.

"He did? What did he send you?" There she was, smiling again.

"A magical stone." Harry took it out from under his shirt. "And also a … book."

"About what?"

"Well…," he reminded himself that she was very open about sex. "It's about sex and girls and boys." He blushed.

"Oh, I'm glad he thought of that. I was afraid I'd have to do it. Is it a good book?" She gave him a huge sly smile.

"He said it was. He also made some notes."

"You'd better read those notes well. Remember that he was quite a Don Juan in school. I would sure like to meet him. …. I'll tell Dumbledore to warn me if he comes again. But I am keeping you up. Go now, before we start on another subject." She stood up and he did as well. They both walked to the door and she opened it for him.

"Bye Aunt Oya!"

"Bye Harry!" She playfully ruffled his hair a bit. Harry didn't make a more to straighten it, as he new it was futile.

It was late, about ten o'clock and Harry rushed to the Common Room under his invisibility cloak. Isabelle was already there, waiting for him. Her eyes rounded as she saw him come through the portrait.

"Harry! What were you doing out so late? You could have been caught." She seemed really concerned.

"No, I have an invisibility cloak. I only took it off a second ago." He sat down next to her on the couch. She seemed surprise at the mentioning of an invisibility cloak. He noticed that she was wearing a red night-gown under the green robes.

"What were you doing out so late?" she asked him.

"Wandless magic. I finally did it. Oya and I were doing different spells just by hand. I could do all of them." He was so happy and so glad to share this information with her.

"Oh, Harry! I'm so glad! How did it happen?" Her smile widened and her eyes twinkled in an unusually merry way.

"I don't know. I just suddenly felt it. Just like Aunt Oya had said."

"She seems like a clever woman. Glad she's on the side of the good now." She cocked her head to the side and looked into his eyes just for a glance.

"Oh, I've found out who Ares was!" He almost jumped in his joy at finally knowing this secret.

"You did? Who was he?" She looked very excited.

"You wouldn't believe it. He was Aunt Oya's and Snape's son!"

Her eyes and mouth widened. She looked astonished at him.

"I would have never guessed! She had a son?"

"Yes, she did."

"How did you find this out?" She turned her whole body to him and was looking at him. One arm was on the back of the couch and she almost touched him. He was all too aware of the closeness of her small hand.

"Well, I overheard another conversation between Oya and Snape," he recalled overhearing only a little while before.

"You've been eavesdropping again?" He cringed a little at the word.

"Yes. …. I don't want to have secrets around me. They keep getting me in trouble."

"They do. …. Did you find out how he died?" He could see that she was thinking about the meaning of this new information.

"No, but Aunt Oya blames herself for it. It's somehow connected to her being a Death Eater."

"How?" She looked at him in interest.

"I don't know. She seemed very … upset."

"No wonder. …. Loosing a child, … a son. It must have been awful. Maybe her son was somehow caught up her Death Eater activities and that's how he died. …. How old was he?"

"I really have no idea. I only know that he died some years ago on October 9th." He wished he had more information.

"What exactly did you overhear?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Well, she was talking to Snape. They were discussing something that happened last night. Think they …," he blushed, "had sex."

"Oh." Isabelle looked down. Harry expected to see her blush, but she clearly wasn't. Instead, her face was grave.

"Oya told him that she didn't want it to happen again. I saw his face and he looked heartbroken. I think he really loves her."

"It must be awful to love someone and not be loved back," her voice was very sad and again, Harry felt a double meaning in her words. She often spoke like that, referring to someone else in a way that made Harry suspect that she was talking about herself.

"I feel genuinely sorry for poor Professor Snape," she said after a pause.

"Isabelle, do you have permission to go to Hogsmeade?" he asked out of the blue, before he would have the chance to think again.

"Yes, I do."

"Have you seen the sign? The first visit of the year will be on October 28th," he told her with excitement.

"I've seen it. Will you go with your friends?" Harry saw that she tried to remain passive about it, when everyone was very excited ever since the sign was put up.

"No, I was thinking of spending the day with you." He was clearly nervous, with his eyes round and his mouth twisting in an interesting manner.

"Me?" Isabelle looked puzzled, but happy. "Why?"

"You're my friend and we only have an opportunity to meet at night."

"How could we? People would see us." Her smile disappeared.

"Quite simple. I know of a secret cave near Hogsmeade. I could lead you there under my invisibility cloak. Then there we could talk and do whatever we want. Maybe play something."

"Sounds good. What if I get some food from the kitchen? We could have a picnic." She started gesturing in a very odd manner. It was unlikely of her and Harry realised that she forgot the reality of her life for a little while.

"Great!"

"Then it's a date." She almost jumped while sitting. Then she unsuccessfully stifled a yawn. When her hand returned to the back of the couch it accidentally brushed his shoulder. He felt an odd jolt run through his body.

"It's getting very late, Isabelle. Let's go to sleep." He found himself breathless.

"All right. Sorry," she apologized. Harry wondered at exactly what.

"Good night, Isabelle."

"Good night, Harry." Isabelle stood up and looked down at him. He looked up and saw the fire around her that made her skin glow. She looked like a dark fairy. He was struck by her whole being.

She went up the stairs first and Harry suddenly wished it was October 28th already. Then in his head he could hear her say "date" and he almost skipped up the stairs. Things from Sirius' book came to his mind and he blushed again.

To be continued … 


	8. Hogsmeade

**Author's Notes:** Join the mailing list for this story! http://groups. Get updates, see what's going on with my progress. 

**Chapter 8: Hogsmeade**

Harry woke happily that morning. Soon he would spend a whole day alone with Isabelle. He was also excited about telling his friends the new discoveries he had made. He just imagined their faces when they heard it.

He didn't have long to wait. Over breakfast he whispered the fact that Ares had been Snape's and Oya's son to them after explaining how he went to seek his aunt out. For a minute they just stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, still not believing her ears.

"Of course I am. Oya said it herself," Harry said with certainty.

"Where is he now?" Ron inquired.

"He's dead," Harry informed them.

The two returned to their astonished expressions.

"How?" Hermione asked, recovering.

"I really don't know. Oya blames herself though. She said something like he had died because of her. It was also one of the reasons why she broke up with Snape." Harry looked around as he said this, making sure that no one overheard them. "She didn't directly say why Ares had died."

"Do you think that maybe Oya killed her son?" Ron wondered, but Hermione shot him a 'you're crazy' look.

"Ron, I don't think she would kill her own son. Besides, her son couldn't have been that old. Remember, when Voldemort died, she left England … temporarily." She sounded very sure of herself, as always.

The three of them looked at each other, as if asking the other if they had an idea to fill in the gaps.

"Hmm. Ideas?" Harry voiced their thoughts.

"No." Hermione seemed disappointed at herself for not being able to work out the mystery. "Maybe if you could remember exactly what she had said…" She looked at Harry.

"Hermione, I'm not a tape recorder."

"What's a tape recorder?" Ron asked, his mouth full of his breakfast.

The two Muggle-raised sighed with exasperation. It was often hard explaining to him their Muggle concepts.

"Ok, don't tell me anything! Harry, how's your wandless magic going?" He swallowed a big bite of food.

"No time for that, Ron! We have to get going to class. It's Potions and we shouldn't be late for that," Harry told them, looking at his pocket-watch.

"Oh, right," Ron was clearly disappointed.

Harry had noticed that Snape hadn't even shown up for breakfast. He was afraid that after what happened last night he would be in a worse mood than ever. He hadn't told his friends about the fact that Oya and Snape had sex two nights before. He felt that it was too intimate to tell. He still saw the look on Snape's face.

Snape did open the door with a more solemn face than usual. The potion recipe was already drawn up on the blackboard. He didn't speak, just pointed at it and returned to his office.

They got busy with the prescribed work. Snape didn't even come back at the end of the class, so they just left. Harry was glad that at least he didn't take it out on them. Maybe he was too down for even that.

"Now that was odd," Hermione said when no one, but the three of them could hear. "He must really be down after last night. He was even paler than usual."

They both agreed with her. Harry chuckled a bit at the fact that they both thought the same thing. They all sat down in the Great Hall for lunch.

"Harry, could you finally tell us about your wandless magic?" Ron asked. Hermione seemed really interested about it.

Harry had never seen him this excited about anything study-related before.

"When I could finally do it, I did fully feel my magic. Aunt Oya and I tried various spells at night and I could do all of them. I didn't even really have to think of the wording of the spell, just what I wanted to do." He smiled brightly, proud of himself.

Ron looked at him in awe, but also had a hint of jealousy in his eyes.

"Did you try transfiguration?" Hermione's eyes were twinkling with excitement as well.

"Not yet. Oya said that is a lot more complicated, because then I have to feel the structure of the thing with my magic." He beamed at sounding cleverer than Hermione.

"What are you doing next?" she wanted to know.

"We are trying out all the spells I've learned these years and I'll finish with the Patronus. Then we'll do transfiguration and when I'm capable of that, we'll do… mind magic," he added in a whisper.

"Mind magic?!" they both exclaimed.

"Not so loud!" Harry looked around to see if someone had heard. "She said it's the next step. Now I have to gesture, point. Then I'll be able to do magic even tied down," he informed them, still whispering.

"That could be very useful with Voldemort around," Hermione pointed out, speaking quietly as well.

"I really could have used it on our last encounter. I'm glad she's teaching me this." Harry's voice was horse with the memory. Maybe he could have saved Cedric. He won't lose another good person.

"Then we can be sure that she's on our side," Hermione said with certainty.

"Really? Why?" Ron was surprised.

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. She rolled her eyes and started to speak.

"Ron, she's teaching Harry new and more effective ways of defeating Voldemort. Why would she do that if she was still a Death Eater?"

"Ugh …. well …." Ron stuttered.

"See?" She returned to her eating, indicating that she had nothing more to say on the subject.

Harry started to eat as well and Ron gulped down the food on his plate as if he hadn't eaten for a month.

Harry looked around, searching for Isabelle as always. While the others were eating, he was free to stare at her lovely face, watching as her small lips parted to take in her fork and the food on it. His 15-year-old mind started to wonder into mature territories, but he shook his head slightly, feeling odd thinking about such things. Instead, he returned to observing her. She was only picking at her lunch as usual, not really taking a bite. He wondered about that. What was the cause of her being so distraught? Could it be his proposal? He hoped that no obstacle had come between them. He noticed a black cloak fly behind her. It was the Finnish man. As Harry followed him with his eyes, he passed Hermione. She didn't even look up. Harry thought about how odd that was, since before she would notice his arrival right away. However, this time she didn't try to feed her own ear with her spoon, nor did she spill her drink all over herself, as it had become her habit of late. When he sat down at his place, she still made no sign of noticing him. Harry thought about what her behaviour could mean. Perhaps she was over him already. However, ha did sincerely doubt that. Ron noticed Reyis arriving as well and felt the immediate need to comment on it:

"Hey, Hermione, there's your boyfriend!"

"What?!" she looked up with alarm. Harry raised an eyebrow, because she was more startled than that sentence should have made her. "Who?" she asked, obviously forcing herself to be calm.

"Who else?" Ron said with triumph, apparently not noticing Hermione's distress. "Regis Niemi. He had just sat down and you didn't even notice. Your eyes should be popping out of your head right now."

"Oh Ron, grow up!" She looked relieved. "Stop bugging me about him," with an indignant sound she stood up and gathering her books walked out of the Great Hall.

"I was only joking. I would have never believed that she'd react that way." Ron blinked in surprise. "Harry, what do you think got into her?"

"I really don't know," he lied, for he had a suspicion that all was not right with her.

During Care of Magical Creatures he was absent-mindedly feeding an Augurey, a small, greenish-black bird. It was so shy that its tiny body shivered in his hands. He had to feed it the ugliest insects and he was thoroughly grossed out. Isabelle treated this creature like a baby as well. Harry marvelled at her beautiful heart that made her kind towards the little beast. He really just wanted to wring its neck when it suddenly decided that his finger was a worm and tried to bite it off. He gave a painful cry. The Slytherins snickered behind him. Hagrid rushed to his side and nervously asked him what was wrong.

"It's all right. I just got bitten."

"All right, Harry, but be careful," the giant reminded him.

"I will." The worry on the half-giant's face made him blush a little.

Harry returned to feeding it and wondered how much food it would need. He decided that it had had enough and put it in a cage on his right. After that he picked out another one from the box on his left, moving quickly so the others wouldn't bite him.

As his hands moved methodically between the insect plate and the bird, his thoughts wandered away to what happened during lunch. Hermione was clearly up to something. Recently, he had caught her lying about her whereabouts. She had told them she would be in the library one day. However, when he went to ask her about a potion, she wasn't there. He looked up a couple of things in some books, and when he had been there for an hour, she arrived. She reddened upon seeing him, but even before she noticed him, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were twinkling in a way, which Harry didn't recognise. She made some obviously false excuse about helping out a first-year as a prefect. Harry tried to give no indication of any doubt, but he kept his eyes on her.

Now she was distressed when Ron said the word 'boyfriend'. Could it be that she had a boyfriend? But then why hadn't she told them? Harry considered the possibility. He realised, that could very well have been the reason! She didn't tell them about him, because she didn't want them to bug her about it, like they had done with Krum. Harry, himself of course wouldn't now, but Ron was so juvenile when it came to such things. Or perhaps it was somebody they wouldn't like. A Slytheryn. No, it wouldn't be one of them. Slytherins were all Muggle-born hating, pure-blooded maniac scums. None of them would even remotely consider Hermione. Hmm. It could even be a teacher. But who? The only one young enough would be Regis Niemi, however, compared to them, he was too old. Then, it could be a girl. Naw, Hermione being a lesbian? That's a definite no. The boyfriend idea seemed like a good one, but he couldn't imagine who the boyfriend could be. He would have to be someone in school, because otherwise she couldn't meet him.

Boyfriends and meetings brought Isabelle into his mind. She was still feeding a bird, whispering softly to it. It seemed much calmer than Harry's. He watched as her pale, delicate hands moved and remembered what it was like touching the soft skin. He hoped that they could still meet in Hogsmeade. He couldn't wait. He would have taken her to the Three Broomsticks, if it was possible, and talked with her above a butterbeer. After that, they could have had a look at the goods of the local shops, walking hand-in-hand. If only her last name wasn't 'Malfoy'. They could be friends in the open. He wasn't really doing much good imagining things that could never be. Maybe when they were seventeen, they could come out into the open about their feelings. That was when he remembered what she had said. If Lucius Malfoy had his way, she would probably be married by the start of the next term and when he said goodbye to her in June, it would be forever. He had to do something about that, he knew. But how? He, himself was only fifteen. Maybe no one would want to marry Isabelle, because of her 'strange' ideas. He hoped anyway. However, the lure of belonging to the Malfoy family would be too great for other Death Eaters. Maybe Isabelle didn't even want his help. His thoughts had taken him so far away from his task, that looking down, he realised that the bird was suffocating in his hands. He quickly released it, but too much. It quickly spread its wings and flew away, probably escaping from his clumsy captor. Harry looked after it, feeling like a complete idiot and quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed. That was when all the birds started to give out a strange sound. It was a low crying, haunting and painful to his ears. They all clasped their hands to their ears and Hagrid motioned for them to go. They ran inside the castle and then broke up into groups. 

"Well, it seems like it's going to rain. Hope not tomorrow," Hermione told Ron and Harry.

"Rain?" the two boys stared at her.

"Yes," she replied, " when Augureys start to cry like that, it means that it's going to rain," she rolled her eyes at them, as this had been said at the beginning of the lesson.

"Well, let's just hope that it won't rain when we go to Hogsmeade or on the day of our match with Slytherin," Harry said and they all nodded, agreeing with him.

By evening that day, it was raining, but luckily it stopped as the sun rose and they were all relieved.

At the breakfast table the Auguerys' wailing was the topic. Some talked about how their classes were cancelled and others told stories about having a bird like that at home. As Harry entered the Great Hall, he saw Hermione and Ron sitting next to Angelina. When he joined them, he noticed how brightly the older girl smiled.

"Good morning Angelina! What's with the big smile?"

"I'm 18!" she happily informed him.

"That's great! Happy birthday. Did you get your presents yet?"

"No, not yet. Can't wait till the owls get here!" she exclaimed excitedly.

As if on cue, the room started to fill with the sound of wings flapping in the air. Mail had arrived. Several birds flew straight to Angelina, most of them dropping packages behind her on the floor. She smiled brightly and clearly had a difficult time deciding where to start. Harry counted nine presents all together. Finally, she chose the smallest one and picking it up, put the package next to her plate.

"There's no card!" she noted.

"Maybe it got lost on the way," Ron said.

Angelina shrugged and tore off the green wrapper. Inside she found a wooden box with various Celtic designs spread all over it. On the top there was a great Celtic-style lion lying in a neat frame. It looked very beautiful, shining in the light streaming through the windows. Everyone who could see it stared in amazement at the simple beauty. Angelina looked delighted and she quickly opened it. That was when people screamed. As the lid rose up, a yellow mist drifted from the inside, threatening to engulf everyone. Hermione, Ron and Harry jumped up, backing away, and so did the other Gryffindors, but Angelina wasn't so lucky. She inhaled some of the vapour and in a split second, she was lying on the floor. The teachers quickly noticed what was happening and they hurried to the table. Dumbledore took his wand out from among the folds of his robe and murmuring a spell, made the mist disappear. Madam Pomfrey was also having breakfast at the time and she was at Angelina's side in a minute.

"She's unconscious," the mediwitch reported.

Most of the room, except for the Slytherins, was trying to see what had happened. The nurse levitated Angelina's body and disappeared through the doors. Dumbledore took the box for inspection. Angelina's other presents lay discarded on the floor solemn reminders that it should had been a happy day. Only Hermione remembered to gather them for the poor girl and with the help of the boys, they took everything to her bed. They learned the sad news some time later. Angelina was in a coma and no one knew for how long. Dumbledore hoped that with the careful examination of the potion inside the box they would be able to figure out what to do, but that took time.

Days passed without any result and Harry had other things to think about, frankly, even though he was worried about his friend, he could hardly concentrate on that matter. All he could think about was October 28th, when they would go to Hogsmeade. The date arrived at a snail-pace for Harry. Each day the hours seemed to take twice as long. He often found himself looking at his beautiful pocket-watch for many minutes, willing the big hand to move faster. He desperately tried to occupy himself with something. He wrote all his homework ahead of schedule and this please Hermione very much. Harry hadn't forgotten to watch the bushy-haired girl either. However, she had disappeared less those days and seemed to be as preoccupied with time as he was, He caught her watching the clock in the Common Room with a similar expression as probably he himself had. Another common thing about them was the way their minds kept wondering away during a conversation, for they both had to ask more than once what the other had said. This proved to be funny in situations when it was the two of them talking. Once when they realised that neither of them knew what the subject was, they shared a questioning glance, but didn't voice their thoughts. Harry didn't, because he feared that he would be asked back and suspected that Hermione was in an equal position.

Besides his studies, Quidditch was also a welcome distraction. He drilled his team feverishly, having the upcoming match with Slytherin and Angelina's absence as an excuse. He decided not to name the replacement for her position until a day before the match. Instead, all three people capable of standing in practised. His heart said that Ron should play, but he wanted to be objective. However, he could be happy about the fact that Ron indeed got a new broom. It was a Nimbus 2000, not a brand new broom model, but a great one anyway. He became more aware of his duties as captain with each practice, he had read through the handbook, but being out in the field was still a bit different. It was a good thing that the team was so close-knit that they needed little instructing and could help with the stand-ins. With the team of new-comers it was rather different and it was with them that Harry really got to utilise his newly acquired skills. He began to forge a team out of them as well, but this was made harder by the fact that the three Chasers were all trying to best the other in order to be in the match with Slytherin. During those moments he really wished that they would find a cure for Angelina's state.

When the team was finished, he got to do some private practicing all by himself. He let the Snitch go and after some waiting, went in search of it. He marvelled at the ease with which he managed to catch it again and again. His mind had very much forgotten what his body hadn't. His legs directed the broom during the chase on autopilot as his hands grasped the little golden ball by instinct. It was during a rainstorm that he truly began to appreciate Hermione's gift. He still remembered the game during which it poured in his third year. The raindrops turned his glasses into a prism, making him see an uncountable number of everything. Not to mention the pain in his eyes and head. This time it was different. The water just vanished from the glass, not marring his vision for a minute. Upon realising this, he did a happy loop. He soared into the air, pushing his Firebolt to the limit and with a quick jerk, he made a circle around his own head. In the air he felt free and careless. No wonder his Aunt Oya always started the day like that. He briefly wondered if he could become an Animagus as well. However, for now he revelled in the fact that the imperfection of his vision no longer meant a handicap for him.

The oddest thing about this period until the Hogsmeade meeting was that he no longer waited happily for his nightly encounters with Isabelle. In fact, he dreaded them. It wasn't because he didn't want to see her anymore. In fact, hearing the music of her voice grew more vital to him every day. He truly felt that he could not live without it. The cause of his fear was that any of those nights she might tell him that they couldn't meet in the cave. However, this never happened.

On D-day the colourful glory of the rising Sun-god found Harry watching him from the windowsill. The rays stretched out on the sky interrupted by only a few clouds. The brightness flooded the ground, waking the world up. The few birds that still remained welcomed the morning with a cheerful chorus. A less friendly choir could be heard coming from the Forbidden Forest. As Harry looked in that direction, he saw a huge figure flying towards him above the woods. He opened the window as it clearly headed towards him. It was a great owl, an eagle owl. He recognized the species by the distinct, long, ear-like things on his head. He didn't really know what they were, but he knew that much about owls. Otherwise, these owls looked the same compared to the other kinds, except for the size. Eagle owls were the largest owls he had ever seen. He couldn't recall anyone owning such a creature, except for the Malfoys. As it landed next to him on the windowsill and raised its leg, Harry hoped that it wasn't from Isabelle, cancelling their date. He sighed in relief when he saw the familiar handwriting of his godfather. He stood up to get an owl treat, but the great bird spread its huge wings and gracefully rose into the air. Harry closed the window after it and sat back down.

He looked at the piece of paper in his hand. It was funny that Sirius should write on that day, just as he was going to take Isabelle to the cave his godfather had occupied last year. He opened the letter and read it wondering what he had written and where he had got the owl.

Dear Harry,

I'm writing to let you know that I'm safe and well. I'm eating a lot and not spending my days only with my big companion. He's good too, by the way. Oh, the bird that takes this to you is an old friend, don't be scared if it's a bit threatening in manner.

Your new friend, the girl we've talked about, puzzles me a bit. She's too unlike her family. She's not the first, but in spite of good intentions, she could mean trouble. Please, be careful in your relationship with her. She's surrounded by dangerous people.

Say hello to your aunt for me and tell her; I'm glad she's back. I never stopped worrying about her. I trust her now and you should as well.

Snuffles

Harry was glad that Sirius was all right. He wondered who could be with him, but was certain that Dumbledore had arranged something. He was surprised by his reference to Oya. He was convinced now that she was on the side of the light. In the meantime, he also cared for her. Harry briefly considered if Sirius knew about Oya's son. Probably yes. It couldn't have been a really big secret. It can't be easy to hide something like that.

He reread the passage about Isabelle. Maybe he could get into trouble, especially if Lucius Malfoy learned of their secret. However, he could never break bonds with her. That much he knew. Even though his feelings scared him. Still, he had never felt more alive or determined. Besides, if Lucius Malfoy did discover that he was Isabelle's friend, it couldn't possibly make things worse. Only for Isabelle. She had said that her father could even kill her. Harry couldn't imagine how someone could be so evil to hurt their own children. Then again, the head of the Malfoy family already had.

His trail of thought was broken by a movement from Ron's bed. He looked over to see the red-head swing his legs out from among the bed curtains. Then his head appeared and he blinked sleepily at Harry. When it registered whom he was seeing, he smiled a bit.

"Good morning, Harry!" He looked over at the huge grandfather clock that stood in their room and blinked a bit, probably not believing his eyes. "What ya doing up so early?" He stifled a yawn and stretched.

"Ron, the others are still sleeping," Harry whispered as he went to his friend and sat down beside him so that they could talk as quietly as possible.

"Oh, ok," Ron whispered back.

"To answer your question, I woke up very early, because I can't wait to go to Hogsmeade."

"Harry, I can't go with you," his friend confessed to Harry.

"Why not?" the green-eyed boy masked his relief with puzzlement.

"I …," he reddened and his face was like a tomato, "I have a date."

"Really? Who's the girl?" Harry was excited.

"Hmm. Not telling," Ron smiled mischievously.

"Why not?" he smiled back. He seemed to be asking that question a lot that day.

"Promised. Besides, it's more fun this way. …. What will you do, Harry?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Don't know yet," he lied. "Probably something with Hermione."

"Oh, she hadn't told you?" Ron said with surprise.

"Who? Hermione? What?" Harry's mind briefly wondered to Isabelle and for a moment he forgot whom they had been talking about.

"Yes, Hermione. She told me last night while you were practising wandless magic with your aunt, that she had some appointment in Hogsmeade and couldn't go with us. I tried to grill out of her what, but she wouldn't tell me."

Harry tried to keep from grinning at the prospect of not having to explain himself. His friends would be busy and he would be free to spend all his time with Isabelle.

"Well, guess I'll have to wonder around all by myself." He pretended to be sad.

"I'm sorry." Ron Seemed really like it. "Maybe I could cancel."

Harry had obviously played the sad boy all too well.

"Na, you go on that date. I'll be fine. Really," he hastened to assure his friend.

"If you really think so…"

"I do. I'll get some money from the bank and perhaps look around for a Christmas present for both of you," he tried to relax his friend.

"Ok, get me something about Quidditch. However, the best you could get me is a sentence. 'You're going to play against Slytherin.' In fact, I wouldn't need another present for … years."

"You know that I'll announce that later. All I can say is that you have a pretty good chance. Are you sure that you want something about Quidditch? I thought that after all the training I've been giving you, you wouldn't be able to even think about that game." Harry grinned.

"Me? Not think about Quidditch? Never!" Ron was so loud that time that Neville could be heard stirring in his bed. "Harry, it's still early. What if we rest a bit more?" He yawned.

"All right." Harry joined him in yawning. Both boys laid back in their beds. Ron was snoring fast enough, but Harry didn't sleep.

Perhaps he would have taken some of the sleeping potion, but he had run out of it last night and forgot to get some. In spite of this he did manage to sleep a little last night. Luckily, he didn't dream about Voldemort, but Isabelle. It was the strangest, yet most relaxing vision. He saw her lying in one of the beds in the hospital wing. Unlike the last time he met her there, she didn't seem to be hurt. She did look tired and sweaty, but she was smiling in a way Harry had never seen her. That was when he realised; she was holding something in her arms. It was a blanket. He sat down on the bed beside her and got a good look at what was inside the bundle. A baby. He only saw its face, wrinkled and quite ugly, still, he was certain the child was his. It was reinforced by the fact that the little boy, judging by the blue colour of his blanket he was a boy, stared at him with emerald green eyes that matched his own. Isabelle handed him to Harry and sliding his arms under the small boy, he took him. His heart expanded, skipped a beat and did all sorts of things that he had never felt. At that moment he knew, he would do anything for his son.

That was when he woke up. He didn't know why and wished he hadn't. He shed a tear. He could still feel the love that had spread in him, but the boy was gone, he had stayed in dreamworld.

At that moment, lying in his bed after having talked to Ron, he couldn't stop himself from thinking back to his dream-son. He saw the baby's face in front of him, he felt the love he had experienced. However, it wasn't a happy thing, just like when he woke up. In the reality of the day Harry still missed him. It hurt. He decided not to get more potion. He hoped that maybe he would dream more of his son. He wondered if it would ever come true. To his own surprise, the thought of him and Isabelle having a son didn't scare him at all as he supposed it should have. A fifteen-year-old boy should have been scared of becoming a father, the responsibility it meant and everything connected to it. However, Harry knew, he had long ceased being just a boy. He had witnessed and gone through more than most adults. The prospect of a family of his own filled his heart with joy instead. While daydreaming like that he did slip unnoticed into some light slumber. When he woke up, others were already preparing. He noted with sadness that he didn't dream about his son again. Shaking off his feelings, he quickly got up, showered, brushed his teeth and dressed. On his way out, he picked the vial the potion had been in and headed for the Hospital Room to return it to Madam Pomfrey. Upon reaching the door, he knocked. No one answered, so after some waiting, he decided to take action. He slowly, quietly opened the door and that was when he noticed sounds coming from her office. Harry looked at the bed on which Angelina was lying. She was as still as stone, just like those who were once attacked by a Basilisk. He hoped that her status would be as temporary, as it was to the victims of the huge snake. He crept closer to Madam Pomfrey's office and listened to the conversation that was going on inside. These past years, and especially during this year, he learned that it was very useful for him to eavesdrop. Perhaps this way he could prevent some of the tragedies that are bound to happen that year. So first he determined who were speaking. It was Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.

"Dumbledore, I really can't sleep at night knowing what that monster will do once she's back with him," she was pleading.

"We can't do anything," his voice held sorrow.

"But why not?!"

"This isn't the Muggle world of your mother, Poppy! Here fathers rule over their families," Dumbledore reminded her.

"So they can do anything to their daughters?! Even that?!" she was screaming with anger.

"Anything." Dumbledore's voice was cold.

"I can't believe this. Is there really nothing…" Madam Pomfrey's voice choked.

"I'm sorry," he was genuinely feeling that way, Harry knew from the way he said it. "Bye Poppy!"

Harry could hear Dumbledore heading towards him, so he quickly went towards the door, then turned, as if he had just come in.

"Hello Harry!" was all Dumbledore said.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore," came the reply.

Harry went to Madam Pomfrey and gave her the bottle after exchanging greetings.

"Do you need more?" she asked.

"No, I Think I'll be fine."

"Good," was all she said and he quickly left, wondering if they had been talking about who he thought. He went straight to the Great Hall and looked around. He couldn't see Ron nor Hermione anywhere. They must have eaten in a hurry and gone off to Hogsmeade. Harry shoved down his own food, keeping an eye out for Isabelle, who was also not in the room. That was when he remembered that he had left his invisibility cloak upstairs. He ran back for it still chewing on the last bite. They were supposed to meet in the Entrance Hall, with him under the cloak so he could guide her to Sirius' cave, where they would spend the day hidden from other people. Especially one called Draco Malfoy. Strangely, he couldn't just think of him as 'Malfoy' anymore. Perhaps because in the past that family name meant one with malice, evil and all things bad. Not anymore. Isabelle was Malfoy as well. He realized that he had learned a valuable lesson; you can't judge people by their families of course, Snape would do well with that lesson as well. He threw the cloak onto himself in an empty classroom, and carefully made his way towards the meeting spot, trying to avoid bumping into anyone. Isabelle stood waiting for him just next to the twin doors that lead outside. She was looking around passively, but her hands fidgeted as they held a basket. Harry wondered what could be in it. He crept closer to her and whispered into her ear.

"I'm here. Go outside and into town. I'll give you more directions, once we're there."

Without even so much as a nod, she started towards the doors. Harry managed to direct her to the cave without any problem. While in the town, he kept an eye out for Hermione and Ron, but saw no sign of them. They entered the cave and once inside, Harry took off his cloak.

"That's a very useful piece of clothing you have there Harry," Isabelle smiled at him.

"Yeah. Used to be my father's:"

"I know, you've told me. It played a role in many of your adventures," with these words she took out a small napkin from her pocket that she put down on the floor. Once there, it quickly started to grow until it was big enough for two people. Harry stared a little, but by this time he had grown used to the unexpected. They both settled down on it and Isabelle opened the basket to reveal two bottles of pumpkin juice, some fudge and many more sorts of food.

"How did you get all this?" Harry smiled.

"Well, every morning Dobby appears in front of me and asks, how he could help. I usually give him some small task so that he can feel useful. This morning I wanted to know how I could get some food for us and he showed me where the kitchen was. All this was prepared by the elves there."

"You're very thoughtful," he said.

"It was really all their doing." She swallowed a bit of fudge.

For a few minutes they both ate quietly, just enjoying the other's silent company. Harry was doing one of his favourite activities as of recently; he was watching her. She noticed and blushing slightly, looked down on her food.

"So, what should we do?" she spoke up.

"Frankly, I haven't really thought about it. However, there is something I've been wanting to ask you. Will you really have to get married at sixteen?" he asked shyly.

"Yes. In fact, I've been wanting to tell you something, but didn't know how to break the news." She stared down in front of her for a while, clearly contemplating how to go on. When she spoke, she did it slowly, clearly holding back her pain. "Father has written me. He said that he had chosen someone for me and I'll meet him during the Christmas break," she informed him.

"Are you sure you'll have to marry him?" Harry asked quickly, hoping that the answer would be a 'no'.

"Yes, Harry. Father said that the wedding is going to be in July."

Harry just stared at her, dumbfounded. She would be married next year. Some man would take her to be his forever and he… He realized that it was time to admit it to himself. He would loose her, his love. Nothing had ever hurt so much before. Even breathing seemed to be hard and the whole world just stopped. She was looking at him then, with a pain in her dark eyes that seemed to match his own. Suddenly it all started pouring out of him.

"ISABELLE, please don't! Do something to prevent it!" he was almost screaming at her, scaring her a little.

"Harry, I can't," her slow words chocked," I am only a girl." She looked down, defeated.

He didn't know what to do. He wanted to make her stay with him forever. Finally, he succumbed to the urge that had been present whenever he just looked at her. He moved close to her and touching her chin, he tilted her head upwards, in the perfect position to kiss her. As his lips descended on hers, he saw her eyes close, full of tears. First it was just two closed lips on each other, but then Harry gave into his instincts and the kiss became a real one. As tongue met tongue, her arms slowly crept to rest on his shoulders, holding Harry to her. He could still feel Isabelle crying. He wanted to prolong the moment, to stretch it into eternity. He wished he knew a spell to freeze time, so that it would be October 28th always. Then she began to push him off and reluctantly he stopped. Only then did he notice that he was laying half on top of her and also the painful throb in his groin. He looked into her face, but could read nothing of it, his own emotions were too much in the way. However, he couldn't shut out the sound of footsteps coming from outside. She heard it as well, for she was intently staring at the mouth of the cave.

To be continued… 


	9. Reaching Out To You

**Author's Notes:** Join the mailing list for this story! http://groups. Get updates, see what's going on with my progress. 

**Chapter 9: Reaching Out To You**

They both jumped up, knowing that they had to hide. Isabelle quickly put the remaining food back into the basket and as she picked up the blanket, it shrunk back into the size of a napkin. Still, they couldn't go out without being seen. They hesitated, as the footsteps grew louder. Harry realized what they had to do. He took out his invisibility cloak, grabbed Isabelle's hand and they hurried together into the deeper part of the cave. He lay down on the ground and motioned for her to join him. "I'll throw the cloak over us both," he whispered.

Nodding, Isabelle lay down in front of him, spooning her body to him. As Harry's inheritance fell over them, they became unseeable to the world, creating one for them alone as they waited, holding their breath for the approaching people, for they could hear two. Then suddenly, two figures appeared. Being taller than Isabelle, Harry could see over her head who they were. He realized with a shock that a mystery had been revealed.

One of the two people was Hermione and the other was Regis Niemi. They sat down close to where Harry and Isabelle were lying. Actually, first Regis sat down, then Hermione into his lap. Within seconds, they were kissing feverishly. Harry could hardly believe it. He had thought of the possibility, but dismissed it. No wonder, she was so secretive, after all, she was the girlfriend of the student teacher and Harry suspected, that it was forbidden. He had to shut his eyes, because, for one, it was not the kind of position he wanted to see his friend in. Another thing was that his mind kept wandering back to the kiss with Isabelle and he had to think that through, not mull over what Hermione was doing. As he closed his eyes, he became more aware of his other senses. He could hear Isabelle's soft breathing, smell the sweet sent that clung to her, still taste the aroma of her lips on his own and most strongly feel the curve of her body that was so close to his. He realized that he had never been so physically close to anyone before. However, that wasn't the only thing bothering him. The kiss had left a peculiar sensation in his body that was mostly centred in his groin. Of course, he had had a similar feeling many times in the morning since he was thirteen, but this time it was different. The situation was worsened by the fact that Isabelle's backside was firmly pushed against the very centre of his problem. He hoped that she wouldn't feel it through the many garments between them. All the more he hoped that he would be able to refuse the pull of his instincts. He couldn't believe the thoughts he was having and realized that people were indeed born with a certain amount of instinctual knowledge. Of course, he had seen some movies in the Dursleys' house that contained some sex, but they never went much far. His mind went further. He had to make it stop! He tried to think of disgusting things. Snape! Snape smiling at the table in the Great Hall. Oh, that was more scary than disgusting, but still… He felt that it was working, so he thought of worse things. Voldemort, Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle… Finally, he could stop. He had managed to gain control over his body once more. He felt very proud of himself, because this was the first time he ever tried that. He decided not to think about the kiss, because it would only get him excited again. Instead, he remembered what she had said. She would get married next summer. Why did she have to be born to the Malfoy family? Things would have been so much simpler. He could openly date her, maybe for years, and then perhaps it would be like with his parents. Marriage, children… Though Voldemort could still intrude. Why did he have to be the Harry Potter? Why was he so important for Voldemort anyway? After all, he had gone personally to finish off him and his parents. He could have sent any of his Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy for one. He could ask Oya the next time they met. Maybe she knew.

He felt Isabelle move. In fact, she stood up and he opened his eyes to stare at her. That was when he noticed that Hermione and Regis had already left. Her face was blank and Harry felt that she was mad at him. He stood up as well and gathered his cloak from the ground. She stood there, hesitating, watching him.

"Isabelle, we need to talk about this," Harry told her as he stood to his full height before her.

"Hermione and Regis Niemi?" she deliberately misunderstood him and he knew it.

"About our kiss," he pressed.

"Harry, you shouldn't have done that. I'm promised to another man. Besides, we shouldn't get entangled like that," her voice was cold.

"Like what?" he was puzzled by what she was saying.

"Sex." The word was simple enough, but it shocked Harry to hear it like that from her. She was so composed about it, not at all like he would have expected a girl to act about a situation like that. What did he think she'd do? Well, he thought she would blush and stutter, but her cold demeanour towards him perplexed him more that if she had shouted at him and slapped him.

"I didn't want to have … sex with you," Harry denied, because although he knew his body wouldn't have had a problem with such a turn of events, he knew that he was still too young for that and their relationship wasn't at such a level either.

"I know you did, Harry, I could feel it as you lay on top of me and when we were hiding," she had an accusing tone.

"All right, my body did want you, but I wouldn't have obeyed it. I love you and world never force you into anything," he said in his frustration. The words came right out of his mouth and they surprised him. Of course, he had felt that he was in love, but saying it out loud and to the very object of his affection was a different thing.

Looking at her he realized that she was shocked by his words. She was staring at him, eyes wide with surprise. Her lips slowly opened to speak and when she did, her voice shook.

"If you love me, then we can't be friends anymore." She turned and simply walked outside, the basket dangling on her arm. Harry watched her go. He wanted to stop her, do something to make her stay. Still, he couldn't, his feet were rooted to the spot. He could feel his heart sink into the deepest chasm as her words hit him. Not even friends.

The next days were awful for Harry. Every waking hour he cursed himself for kissing Isabelle. Although it was the most wonderful experience of his life, still, he realized that he should have done it a bit differently. But he knew she responded to him, that she wanted it as much as he did. The more he thought about it, the surer he was that she returned his feelings. After all, wasn't it her, who clutched his shoulders? Didn't she part her beautiful lips and allow him to enter? He could still recall the sensation of her tongue touching his. She was definitely not turning him away. He knew what her real problem was. Her family. They wanted her to marry a stranger and she knew they could never be together. Just like Hermione and Regis, they would always have to hide from everyone and deny their feelings to the public. Also, she would probably not come back next year and would be forever chained to another man. The thought angered him. She would be kissing another man. Someone who would probably never love her the way she should be loved would be spending eternity with her. In the end, she would become a soulless creature like her mother. He wished he could do something to prevent her marriage, but aside from taking off with her on a broomstick and leaving for some far away tropical country, he couldn't think of anything. He was after all, still only fifteen. How he wished to be of age already! But he wasn't. All he could do was just stand by and watch.

A couple of days after the kiss, he gazed at her while trying to conceal his actions with his hands in front of his eyes, pretending to be asleep during History of Magic like everyone else. She was looking sadly in front of her, clearly oblivious to the class and everything else. He wished he could comfort her. He also wished he could still be her friend, if nothing more. However, she had clearly refused that option. He had really messed the whole thing up. If he didn't kiss her, he could still be at her side. He cursed himself for not being able to contain his urges. He knew, however, that he had to do something. Perhaps talk to her, but he couldn't get her alone.

For the mean time, he had to think of other things as well.

He was trying to concentrate on Quidditch. Harry would have the first match as captain and that alone made him nervous. To top it, Angelina was out for who knows how long. It troubled him as a friend that she was blind. It also worried him as captain that one of his best players wouldn't be on the field. However, on the bright side, he did have three reserve Chasers. Of course, Ron was actively trying to persuade him to put him in the playing team, but Harry knew that he couldn't favour his friend. So he decided to have the three Chasers compete against each other during one of the training sessions. He didn't warn them ahead. Just as they stood in front of him for practice, he suddenly announced:

"You all know that Angelina can't play on our upcoming match. Even if she does regain her sight until then, she'll be too out of practice to play. Luckily, we do have three reserves, though only one position. To be fare, I've decided to hold a little competition for you guys. Keaira here will be attending the goal posts," Harry motioned for the girl, who was standing besides him, just like she did whenever she had free time, which was beginning to annoy Harry. "You'll all have ten chances at the goals. The one who scores the most, gets on the playing team."

The tree Chasers got ready. They decided to go alphabetically, which left Ron last. The rest of the team sat down on the side to watch. They clapped each time Keaira caught the Quaffle. However, as time progressed, Harry realized that perhaps having Keaira keep for the inside competition was a bad idea. Simply no one could score with her around. They were already in the last round of the ten he'd sat out and no score for any of the Chasers. Finally, they came to Ron's last throw. If he didn't score either, he would need someone else to keep and start all over again. That could present a problem, because looking at his beautiful pocket watch, Harry realized that they only had one more hour on the field, then they would have to give it over for another team. He secretly crossed his fingers behind his back, so the others wouldn't see that he was being partial in rooting for his best friend. Harry saw Ron make a few moves as he headed towards the goal posts. Then he swerved to the right, then left and suddenly, he was going up in a blink of an eye. Harry hardly had time to register how beautifully his friend was flying, when the Quaffle left Ron's hand, passed Keaira by an inch, almost knocking her off the broom with its force and was through the middle post. The whole team stood and cheered, partly to praise Ron's achievement and partly because they were glad they didn't have to spend another hour just watching the reserve Chasers. Ron landed on the ground in front of them, a smug look on his face. Harry went to him and embraced his friend.

"Great flying Ron! You made it into the team. Well then. Let's start the real practice everyone!" Harry announced.

With that, they all mounted their brooms and for the next hour, Alicia and Katie worked on getting used to Ron and integrating him into their play. They have played together with Angelina for so long, they depended on the three of them knowing by instinct what the other would do. Of course, they couldn't develop such a close connection to Ron in an hour, but they tried their best to incorporate him into the game. By the end of the hour, Ron was catching on quite well. Harry was very pleased with the progress of his team and praised them well. As they left, the players of Slytherin left their changing rooms to go onto the field. As Harry passed Draco, the blond boy puffed a little at him. Harry decided to just ignore the motion and turned his head in the other direction. For the uptenth time, he wondered how a lovely girl like Isabelle could be a Malfoy.

Friday came again and Harry decided to tell Aunt Oya of Isabelle. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but he felt he had to talk to someone about the pain he was going through. He just couldn't stand seeing Isabelle around and not being able to touch her, talk to her. He wanted to cry at nights, when he lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He had stopped taking the sleeping potion. For one thing, he didn't want to become dependent on it. Then he also wanted to dream again with his son. So as he lay there, he thought about Isabelle and felt the need to cry, but he just choked. He knew he was changed outwards as well. Hermione and Ron often questioned him about what was wrong, but he just shrugged his shoulder and told them that he was worried over the fact that Voldemort was silent. Of course, that troubled him as well, but still, he couldn't care about it as much as he did of his need for Isabelle. So as Harry stood in front of Oya, trying to perform wandless magic, but failing, he knew he had to talk. He dropped his hand and sat down on his aunt's couch with a sigh.

"You're distracted," she stated.

"Yes," came the short reply.

"Want to tell me about it?"

"Yes."

"Am I going to have to pry everything out of you?" Oya asked with a small smile, as she sat down next to Harry and tried to look into his eyes, but they were fixed on his hands.

"No," he said, finally looking up and meeting her gaze.

"Well then, let's hear it," she prodded.

"All right. Hmm. I …," he stopped. He just didn't know how to tell it all to Oya and her intense eyes disturbed him. He looked down again. "You see, Aunt Oya, I … I'm in love."

She was apparently taken aback by this information, but said nothing, letting him continue.

"I don't really know if she returns it. Recently I've learned that her father wants to marry her off to someone. When she told me, I … I kissed her. She kissed me back. But then, she seemed disturbed by it and broke up our friendship. I just don't know what to do." His voice was full of desperation. He looked up at his aunt and saw that her eyes were examining him closely.

"She's a pureblood, isn't she?" Oya inquired.

"Yes. I suppose that was easy to guess. She's been my friend for a while, but only in secret. Her family wouldn't approve. …. I didn't know I loved her until she told me about getting married next year."

"Does she love the man?"

"No, I'm sure she doesn't. She cried when she told me. …. Aunt Oya, I think she loves me too!"

Oya could see how disturbed Harry was by this whole thing and she took one of his hands in hers. She gently squeezed it, as a gesture of comfort.

"Harry, I know it's hard to be in love for the first time, but I don't think you can do anything in the current situation. I'm sorry to say this, really I am. But you're only fifteen. I'm afraid you'll just have to leave her alone and forget her," she advised, keeping her voice low.

This angered Harry. He wasn't expecting this from her. He thought she would somehow solve the problem, come up with some clever plan to save Isabelle from her fate. Instead, Oya told him to just let things happen and stand aside. How could he just let his delicate Isabelle get trapped in a marriage with a man, who was probably a cruel Death Eater?

"I can't do that! I can't let her marry a man who'll probably treat her horribly and make her a shell of the person I know. She's smart and wonderful, but also very … fragile," at that moment he remembered how she looked when he saw her in the hospital wing. So pale… "I have to do something!" Harry stood and was shouting at her. She was clearly surprised, her mouth was agape, eyes wide. Oya stood as well, to be at level with her nephew.

"Harry, be reasonable. You're a fifteen-year-old boy. How could you stop a thing such as an arranged marriage from happening?! Sometimes we are powerless and just have to accept our fate. I know it's hard. Perhaps after you're both seventeen, you'll be able to do something. For now, just leave the poor girl alone," she spoke in an even voice, calm as ever.

Harry just couldn't believe his ears. He felt the need to get out of that room. He turned and was outside in a second, running down the corridor blindly. He didn't really know where he was running, he just had the incredible urge to simply run. He ran down on one corridor after the other, then he came to the great gates that lead outside. Harry opened them with a bit of difficulty, but managed and he didn't even care to shut them behind him. He felt that if he stopped, he would die. Finally, he reached the lake and came to a halt at its bank. He gazed at the dark, murky water, as if expecting the answer to all his problems to just suddenly surface. For some minutes he just watched as the calm water reflected the star-filled sky above, then suddenly, the dam broke and he was sobbing his heart out. The sobs came in waves at him, open-mouthed, almost close to heaving, but still not there. He was dying. He was sure that nothing else could hurt so much, but dying. He clawed at his chest, wanting to rip his heart out, because that was the centre of his pain. As he stood there in agony, something unexpected happened. The sound of singing came from the depths, a slow, mourning song sweet enough to fill Harry's heart. He couldn't understand a word, but somehow he knew, the merpeople were singing to him. The sobs ceased and the tears he didn't realize he was shedding stopped their flow. He sat down on the cold grass and just listened. As he did, he felt a sense of relief come over him. Then he was sure that Isabelle wouldn't marry the man she was destined to and they would find a way to be together. The song slowly came to an end and he shouted a 'thank you' out into the vast darkness of the lake. He stood up and turned to go back. Just as he neared the gates, he saw an eagle fly above and land just in front of him. It quickly changed into Oya Potter.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked with concern in her voice, taking in his dishevelled appearance.

"I'm fine," came the short answer again.

"Look, I'm sorry, but there really isn't anything we can do."

"But why?" he demanded.

"Because in the Wizarding world, a father has superiority over his daughter until she's 17. That means, he can force her to marry anyone he pleases. She doesn't even have to be there, he can sign the papers for her. I'd love to help, but there really isn't anything we can do. Perhaps if she talked to him and told him that she didn't want to marry this man, he would consider it," she put a comforting hand on his arm.

"I doubt that," Harry looked in front of him. "There has to be another way," he spoke with determination.

"If there is, then I don't know it. …. Are you friends with this girl?"

"Yes. But after I kissed her, she stopped talking to me," he said with regret.

"Oh, yes, you kissed her." Oya couldn't help, but smile at this. "You did say that she kissed you back," she said with a hint of pride. "Then she must return it. Perhaps she's a bit confused about what happened. You really can't talk to her?"

"No."

"Then what if you wrote a letter to her?" she proposed.

Harry looked up at this and saw Oya smiling at him. A letter! Now why didn't he think of that?

"You really think that could help?" He returned her smile a bit.

"Oh yes! It's very romantic. You could tell her about your feelings that way. Also, don't sign your name, just something only she could know you by. That prevents any problems, should it fall into the wrong hands." Now Oya's smile became a full grin, she was obviously enjoying this talk.

"I'll do that. Thank you Aunt Oya!" Harry said and he started again on the way back to the castle. Oya fell into step with him.

"Then we're good?" his aunt inquired.

"Yes, we're good," he nodded his agreement.

"I'm glad," she said, obviously relaxing a little.

The next day was Harry's first Quidditch match as the team captain. He got up early, having been woken by sheer anxiety. He could hardly fall asleep and when he finally did, he only had a few hours of rest. Upon getting up still tired, he considered getting another bottle of the sleeping potion for such occasions. However, he hadn't had a nightmare since he stopped taking it and had decided not to risk getting used to it. He still had over an hour until breakfast, so he took his Handbook for Quidditch Captains that was on his bedside table, quietly put on a robe over his pyjamas and went down to the Common Room. He paused briefly by Ron's bed, marvelling at how he could still snore with an open mouth just before his first public Quidditch match. As he got to the Common Room, he saw that it was empty. Relieved, not really in the mood to talk to anyone, he sat down on the sofa in front of the fire and opened his book at the passage that contained final notes before the match. As he was reading, he heard someone coming down the stairs. Looking up, he saw the very girl his heart, thoughts and he himself was fully immersed in, Isabelle. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at him. For some time, they just stared at each other. He noted that she was in her usual green robe that was tightly wrapped around her body. Her eyes were wide as she took him in, shining with uncertainty. Harry was afraid to move, not wanting to scare her away. So instead, he began to speak:

"Isabelle, we have to talk…" he began, but just as the words left his mouth, she turned and practically ran up the stairs, probably back into her room.

Harry just looked at the spot she vacated, then bowed his head and buried his face in his hands. A feeling of sorrow and longing washed over him and he had to hold back his tears. Then he got up, quietly went into his dorm-room and placed his book back on his bed-side table. After that he took out his quill, ink and a parchment, and returned downstairs.

Harry sat down at a table and began to write his first letter to Isabelle. He kept on writing until the first person, Keaira arrived in the Common Room about half an hour later.

"Morning Harry!" she called, excitement evident on her face. Harry noted that it even made her look worse than before.

"Morning Keaira," he said, while he quickly charmed the ink on his letter to dry and rolled it up, before she could see what he had written. Then he turned to her and smiled. "I see you're excited about your first match. Have you slept well?"

"Yes, I have," she beamed. "But I wanted to get up a bit early, to fully be awake for the match."

"I see you've already put on your Quidditch robes," Harry observed. "I should go and do the same," he told her and with that got up.

"You're right, see you a bit later!" she almost shouted after him.

He was glad to be out of her sight, because her clinginess often annoyed him. He opened the door to his dorm-room and saw that everyone was up.

"Harry, we've been wondering where you've been!" Ron informed him.

"I woke up early and didn't want to disturb you, so I went down." Harry put down his things next to the Handbook for Quidditch Captains and quickly changed. In the process of dressing, he managed to hide his letter in his trunk, wondering how he could give it to Isabelle. However, he needed to focus on Quidditch at that time, so he shunned all thoughts of love from his mind and went over the points in the book that were written to be checked before the match. He deemed himself ready and looked at Ron. He was grinning madly at his best friend, obviously excited and happy.

"Ready to have breakfast?" Harry asked him.

"Yes, Captain!" Ron saluted to him and Harry smiled at his antics.

They went down together into the Common Room to see the whole team gathered there along with a couple of people already showing their support to them, making encouraging small talk. Once the members of the team saw Harry on the stairs, all of them looked at him and saluted at the same time, while saying:

"Good morning, Captain!"

"You organized this!" Harry was getting into a cheerier mood as his mates made fun of his title.

Katie Bell stepped up to him as he got down the stairs.

"I knew you'd understand the joke, having grown up among Muggles. The others had no idea of what saluting was, apparently they don't do it in the Wizarding world," she was grinning proudly of herself.

"I was wondering about that," he said.

The whole group of people made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was an interesting spectacle as most of Gryffindor House moved as one, talking excitedly and loudly, laughing as the Muggle-borns explained saluting to the rest, sharing their culture. As Harry walked among them, he looked at the people around him in a new light. Several things occurred to him all at once. First of all, the fact that with Voldemort being in possession of a body again, there should be another war approaching. He shuddered as he considered any of them being targeted, loosing a loved-one or even dying themselves. He thought about this great mass of people slowly thinning. As if he was watching a film, he saw in his mind's eye as those he didn't know much disappeared, then those he knew a little bit and finally, as those he really cared about were no more.

As he looked at some not too familiar faces, the second thing that occurred to him was what Oya had said, that some Gryffindors may become Death Eaters. He knew, he should be more careful about what he said in front of others, least he put some weapon in the hands of his enemies. The thought scared him a little. If anyone could be a Death Eater, he wouldn't be even safe in Gryffindor Tower! He was sure that Voldemort wanted to kill him himself, to finish the job he had begun all those years ago, but that knowledge didn't comfort him as much as it should have. After all, some Death Eater in the house could take out one of his friends in order to get to him, or use one of them as bait. Harry remembered seeing such things in movies, when he could watch some at the Dursley's. They sometimes allowed him to join them in the living-room, in case he kept quiet. The villain in the story kidnapped the girlfriend or friend of the hero and used the person to lure the hero into a trap. Of course the hero would always know that it was a trap, but what other choice did he have, than go and try to rescue the girl? Of course, movies always ended by the villain failing and the hero being successful, but in real life, it could always go otherwise.

He stopped himself. No use thinking about such things at a time, when Gryffindor was moving as one and his first game as captain was soon to begin. They all sat down at the large table in the Great Hall. The team sat in the middle, the others around them. Harry spotted Hermione sitting a bit further down. She gave him the thumbs up and he shot her a wide grin.

Ron, who sat right next to him, nudged Harry, trying to get his attention.

"Harry, I promise I won't fail you," he whispered excitedly into his ear.

"I know you won't, Ron," Harry assured him.

"What were you thinking about? You seemed miles away."

"A lot of things. None of them important. Don't worry."

"Do you feel like eating? I sure don't," Ron said, looking around at the plates in front of him, eyeing the food.

"No, me neither. I think I'll just have some pumpkin juice," Harry told him, smiling at the fact that for the first time, Ron wasn't hogging down all the food he could get his hand on.

"Hmm. Good idea, me too." Ron filled his cup and greedily poured the drink down his throat. Harry wondered if he even swallowed, or the liquid just simply flowed down straight into his stomach without any effort on the part of the boy.

The green-eyed boy on the other hand slowly sipped the contents of his cup, looking around. He spotted a mass of long, dark hair at the end of the table and he knew it was Isabelle. When she turned and their eyes meet, his heart skipped a beat and he thought of the letter he had left upstairs. Perhaps he should have brought it. However, now all eyes were on him and he would have had a difficult time in getting it to her in an inconspicuous way. He did need to figure out a way to get the letter to her. But not now, he realized, as the others on his team started to get up and leave the table. Apparently no one could really eat. The rest of the House stayed at their places and waved their representatives away.

The team went into the dressing rooms and Harry knew that it was time for him to make a speech. He didn't really know what to say, but as the other members sat down, he bravely stood in front of them. However, as he looked into their eyes, all directed at him, he found himself tongue-tied.

"Hmm," he stammered. "I should make a speech now, wouldn't I?" he smiled at them.

The others laughed in a nervous, but happy way.

"So, we prepared well. I know for sure. We do have a couple of new people on the team," he looked at Keaira and Ron, "but I'm confident that they'll make good. They are both great players and have performed gloriously in practice. Those of us, who have been doing this for a longer time, we are in great shape. We are up against Slytherin, however, and we know they play dirty and without consideration to our health. So don't forget to be careful. Play clean. We won the Cup last time and let's not be too confident or cocky. Concentrate on the balls, ignore whatever remark the other team would throw your way. They may try to threaten you," Harry stopped for a moment, because just at that time he realized what kind of fodder the Slytherins could use in their verbal cannons. "They may threaten you with Voldemort," he told them.

They all gasped at that, partly due to the fact that he had said 'The Name' and also because he brought up the subject.

"Yes, I said 'The Name', I know. I always say his name. I'm not afraid of it. It's a name. I told you all a couple of months ago that he was back. The Slytherins know he's back as well. I'm not saying they are all on His side, they very well may not be, but probably most of them are. Or at least they think they want to be. Out in the field they always play dirty, that we know. In the heat of the moment they may not closely consider the weight of throwing such threats around. However, I'm sure they are empty threats. Don't be disturbed by them, don't even really listen. Voldemort is out there in his new body. There is a war coming," Harry said, realizing that his speech was quickly turning into something he had not intended. He knew he had to stop, before he distracted his team from the game. "However, the war isn't here right now, so you must not think about that, but concentrate on the game. Besides, I have faith in Dumbledore that he will soon take care of Voldemort. After all, even though he's back, he's not as strong as he was before. I got away from him last year." He tried to comfort the others. He smiled encouragingly. "So, … I think it's time. Let's go out there and prove that we can win without Oliver." He grinned as they got up and smiling, went.

Harry was the last to go to face the music. He stepped into the stadium with an air of confidence that was mainly for the team, but for the crowd as well. The majority of Hogwarts cheered for Gryffindor, as only the Slytherins were in favor of themselves. The team stood around Madam Hooch, who positioned herself right in the middle of the stadium. Harry stood in front of her, then Malfoy stepped up as well. Harry eyed his nemesis with contempt and the same sentiment was directed back to him. So Malfoy was the captain of the Slytherin team. Harry realized how much along the same lines their lives were going, just on the opposite side. His thoughts were stopped there, as Madam Hooch started to speak.

"Now begin this season with a good, clean game. I want you to shake hands," she spoke to both of them.

Harry redirected his gaze to Malfoy, who had a very characteristic smirk on his face. Harry stuck out his hand to him, and the blond boy reluctantly took it. They shook each others hands lightly, making the contact as brief as possible.

"All right, now mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch commanded.

They did as they were told and as Madam Hooch blew her whistle, the teams rose into the air.

"This is Lee Jordan and I welcome you to the first Quidditch match of the season," came the sound of Lee's voice loud and clear. "The Quaffle is in the air and is immediately taken by Gryffindor's new Chaser, Ron Weasley. Finally there's a male Chaser among them! He passes to Alicia, who quickly throws it to Katie. She picks up speed, passes a Bludger, takes aim, score! Ten to nothing for Gryffindor! Anyone who said the new members would ruin the team were wrong!"

Harry was looking at his team. They were doing a great job of the tactics they had talked about. They were passing in quick succession to one another, the Quaffle just a blur. The Weasley twins kept hitting the Bludgers towards those Slytherins, who attempted to steal the Quaffle from them. However, sometimes they did manage it, much to the dismay of most of the school. Then there was Keaira for them to get through, but she always seemed to be just in front of the right hoop. Harry beamed at what he was seeing. However, the Slytherin Keeper seemed to gather himself together as well, and after a while, no matter how the girls and Ron tried, they couldn't score.

"For half an hour now, there had been no goal in the game. The score is still fifty to nothing for Gryffindor," Jordan announced, with a hint, or rather a lot of boredom in his voice.

Harry started to double his efforts in finding the Snitch. The team didn't need him to give any directions; they knew what to do. He soared in the air, trying to concentrate on the image of the little golden ball in his mind so that he could spot it more easily. Hermione's glasses helped him a lot, since his vision was better and he didn't have to squint in the unusual bright rays of the sun. Well, at least it wasn't raining, he thought to himself. Meanwhile, he was listening to the increasingly agitated voice of Jordan.

"Gryffindor has the Quaffle, again. Katie passes to Alicia, who then to Ron. He dodges a Bludger. Good manoeuvring," in spite of what he was saying, there was not even a hint of excitement by now in his commentary. "Ron is still flying with it." For about ten seconds he was silent. It occurred to Harry that perhaps Jordan had fallen asleep. Silently cursing, Harry kept on looking for the Snitch, but it seemed to have disappeared. Perhaps the little thing decided to hide so as to continue the stalemate forever. However, just to prove his last thought about the teams' situation wrong, the crowd roared. Harry looked towards the Slytherin goalposts just in time to see Ron fly in front of them, his arms raised into the air. Behind him, the Slytherin Keeper was seething with the Quaffle in his hands.

"I can't believe it! I just close my eyes for one second and … I don't know what happened," Jordan shouted, mad at himself. Harry looked at him and saw Professor McGonagall whisper in Jordan's ear. "Oh, thank you Professor! So for those who wondered off like me, Ron Weasley had managed to get the Quaffle through one of the posts, finally breaking the boredom. Way to go, Weasley!"

Harry was very happy, but he knew he had to concentrate on his own task. However, from then on, Jordan's voice never lapsed back into its monotone version. Ron's name was constantly on his lips, as he seemed to fire goal after goal. There was no stopping him and when Harry spotted the Snitch after three hours of searching, he almost regretted putting a stop to Ron's hours of glory. Harry managed to capture the little golden menace swiftly, Draco never even noticed.

The party in the Common Room was almost evident, as it had already begun before the match. Harry was enormously relieved that they had won. He dreaded that the happenings of his second and fourth years would be repeated. He didn't want to see a comeback of those anti-Potter badges. He was immensely happy as well, and shared a butter-beer with the others that, as usual, was provided by the twins. Harry noticed Ron in the crowd, who was smiling at the people around him. Being the hero of the game, girls from the fourth year and up were standing around him, listening intently as he recounted his goals from his own perspective. All the girls had an obvious look of adoration on their faces and Ron was pleased to be the centre of attention for a change. Harry mused that if there was a Yule Ball again this year, Ron would have many girls coming up to him, asking him to accompany them just like when Harry was a Tournament champion last year. Harry was glad that his friend got a taste of fame now, because he knew that was something Ron was jealous of. Harry also looked for Keaira, another hero of the day. After all, she had stopped every goal that was aimed at the posts. He found her soon, as turning around he almost fell over her. She was standing just behind him, a bit shorter than him, and that was how he didn't see her when he turned. She did surprise him a lot like that.

"Keaira!" he exclaimed. "Are you enjoying the party?" he smiled down at her.

"Of course Harry!" she beamed, again, her face uglier than when he features were passive. Harry tried not to flinch at the site.

"Good. Why don't you mingle a bit with the others?" he asked her.

"I like to be near you, Harry!" she almost whined.

Harry didn't know what to say to not be offensive. He just tried to smile at her bravely, and decided to just ignore her for the time. He also looked for Hermione. She was chatting with the girl Chasers, and next to her was Angelina. Harry remembered that she had said last night that she would help Angelina get to the stands to at least hear the match in her blind state. After all, otherwise she was fine. They laughed together, though Harry could see a hint of sadness on Angelina's face. Relaxed that his best female friend was socializing, he wondered what the love of his heart was doing. He looked around for Isabelle, but couldn't see her anywhere. He moved a bit, since the Common Room was packed in such a way that it was hard to see farther than a few meters. However, he did realize that it was getting easier for him to see above the heads around him. He was becoming quite tall, and this realization pleased him. With a wider grin than before, he kept looking for the black beauty. Beauty? Yes, she was a real beauty, he thought. That was when he spotted her. She was smiling, a rare thing except for the times they spent alone together. Harry was glad to see her like that for a change. She was sitting in a corner, a butter-beer in her hand, watching the celebrating people. Harry had the urge to just go and talk to her. Maybe share his happiness over winning, his anxiety over the responsibilities that being a captain meant, or just generally be in her company. He knew he couldn't and he felt a pang in his heart that ripped from it the happiness he felt. He shook himself.

'There will be a time when I can openly talk to her,' he promised himself. How that would come about, he had no idea. He only knew that it had to. He quickly slipped away after making sure that Keaira was no longer at his side and went up to his dormitory room. It was quite easy, because of the huge crowd, even though he was one of the people that was being celebrated. He opened his trunk and got out the letter that he had written to Isabelle. He wondered how he should give it to her. Then he came to a realization. Everyone was in the Common Room! The girls' dormitory would be empty! The thought of going there made him shiver.

It was a place his thoughts had many times wondered to over his years in school. He speculated it was different from the boys'. Also, since meeting Isabelle, he often thought of what she looked like asleep. In the past days he sometimes fantasized about going to her while she was in deep slumber, kissing her face. He saw her open those black eyes of hers and look up at him. Then in his imagination she would smile, with one of those genuine smiles of hers that he so seldom saw. They would go down into the empty Common Room and do some real kissing. He often remembered what they shared in the cave and then he longed to repeat their activities.

He shook himself. He needed to get to the dormitory, and not daydream about Isabelle. Harry started towards the girls' dormitories, but then he remembered something. About three weeks ago Seamus had a date with a fourth-year girl and she was late. So he decided to check on her. He was kind of nervous to ask her out in the first place and as he was waiting, he got scared that she wouldn't come. So he started up the stairs to her dormitory. When he got to the sixth stair, the stairs turned into a slide and he slid down. The funny part was that his date was just coming down and she slid right into his lap. Luckily she only laughed and it relaxed him as well. Ever since then they were together.

So Harry knew that he could not go up the stairs. How else could he get to the girls' room? Then he realized that the answer to the problem was in the Quidditch changing rooms, where he left his Firebolt in his haste to get to the celebration. If he went to the dormitory on his broom, he wouldn't need to step on the stairs, not even the floor. He smacked his had upon this realization and considered how he could get the broom. Then he remembered! Last year during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament he got his Firebolt through summoning it. He hadn't done that spell for a while, but even before, once he got a spell right, he could do it any time. Now with all the extra training he'd had, it should be easy. So he went to one of the windows and opened it. A gush of wind hit him immediately, blowing up his hair, billowing his Quidditch robe behind him, making him look like he was preparing for a big fight in some Hollywood action movie. He smiled and concentrated on his Firebolt as he raised his wand.

"Accio Firebolt!" he spoke and then waited. After a while he saw it. His broom was flying towards him just as it had before. He grabbed it when it was close enough and put away his wand. He slipped his letter from his bedside-table into his pocket and mounted his broom. Harry flew towards the door, but didn't stop, only raised his hand and thought about the door opening for him. He was very proud of himself when it did and he flew out, repeating the action on his way out, only to close the door this time. He urged his broom on, wanting to go as fast as possible and get done with it. He was glad to see that he could zoom up over the stairs without any hindrance. He was afraid that there was some sort of a barrier that would keep him from completing his plan. Since there was none, he made it up and looked for the door that said '5th year' on it. He quickly found it and opened the door with magic again. He smiled broadly as it swung open and he flew in. Harry hovered in the middle of the room. It surprised him how different it was from the boys'.

The arrangement of the place was the same. However, the room was done in light, pastel colours that made the space look bigger. The wood of the beds was a lighter shade of gold, the beddings cream-colored with the seal of Gryffindor embroidered on them in a bit darker shade of the original colour. By the beds the same kind of bedside-tables were located as in his own dormitory, but in the same colour as the beds and there were different things on them. A few held pictures, some stuffed toys, and two tables had large stacks of books on them. Harry suspected that one of the last two belonged to Hermione, the other to Isabelle. He approached the one closest to him and looked around for some clue as to whom the bed and the table belonged to. He spotted the corner of a book sticking out from under the pillows. He pulled it out and on the cover he could read only one word. 'Diary'. With trembling hands he opened it. On the first page there was still no name, so he turned a page. The writing was unknown to him and it occurred to him that the bed could belong to some other girl than Hermione or Isabelle. He would have recognized Hermione's writing; he'd copied enough homework off her. So he decided to read a little, just to find out whose bed he was suspended next to. He sighed, gathering courage to read. The writing was very cursive, almost to the point of artistic, but still easy to deal with.

_'I arrived to the station along side of Father and my brother. They ignored me through the trip as usual and I had to struggle with my huge trunk alone. During the trip I had to sit with Draco…'_

It was at that point that Harry knew, it was Isabelle's bed. He wanted to close the book and put it back right away and place the letter next to it, but his curiosity forced him to continue reading. The little voice of reason told him to stop reading, also including that it wasn't right to read other people's diaries. However, he had to find out what she wrote about their first encounter, he simply had to. Then perhaps also what she thought about their kiss…

_'…and it was very boring. I just listened to him rant on about his summer, boasting things that weren't true. He was always good at stories. I fell asleep from boredom some time during the trip and in no time at all, we arrived to Hogwarts. It looked much more welcoming than Durmstrang. I had to be sorted into a house. It turned out to be Gryffindor. Knowing that Father would be furious, I tried to convince the Sorting Hat that it was wrong, but it's a persistent creature. I couldn't sleep and had to think over what I should do. I decided to go down into the Common Room. It seemed like a nice place upon first look. That was where I saw him again. Harry Potter. He cast his emerald eyes on me and I was at a loss for words. I talked to him. He didn't turn away from me in disgust like all the girls in the dormitory when I entered it. He talked to me like he would to anyone else and it was so wonderful! I wish that I could talk to him like that any time I wanted to and to the others as well. Perhaps if they really knew me… They can never get to know me. I do like Harry a lot. He's nice and sweet. Also, well, I know I shouldn't think this, but very handsome.'_

The page ended here. Harry's heart beat faster and he felt like doing a happy-loop right there in the room. She thought him nice, sweet and handsome, he reread the words. He had to find out what she wrote about what happened in the cave. He started to flip the pages, when he suddenly heard voices outside on the corridor. He quickly closed the diary, took out his letter and together he slipped the two objects under the pillow. He could hear the voices of Lavender and Parvati coming from just opposite side of the door. Nervously he glanced around to see where he could hide, when he remembered that he was sitting on a flying broom. He turned and soared upwards, almost on the top of one of the beds' ceiling. Looking down, he saw the door open and the girls walked in.

"I can't believe that stupid Neville poured butter-beer all over my favourite blouse," whined Lavender.

"He's so clumsy. Makes me wonder why the Hat put him in Gryffindor. Well, I guess he must have lots of courage to even come to school with his skills and memory," Parvati laughed.

Harry seethed at their words. Neville was very good at a lot of things, like Herbology and he knew that perhaps if the boy got a bit more encouragement, then perhaps he would do better. Then and there, Harry decided to pay more attention to Neville. Harry suddenly noticed what Lavender was doing. She took off her robe and started to unbutton her stained top. For a bit he just stared, then realized what he was doing and shut his eyes, but not before he got a glimpse of her white, laced bra. He cursed at himself for peeking, which he knew was very wrong. However, he was male after all, so thinking it over, he didn't think it such a big deal. He had even read in Sirius' book that wanting to see girls naked was a natural instinct in his age.

They were still talking, but he shut them out. He only reopened his eyes when he heard the door to the room close behind them. Sighing with relief, he decided not to push his luck. Carefully, so as not to be seen, he left the girls' section of Gryffindor Tower. After depositing his broom in his trunk, Harry returned to the party that was still going on in the Common Room.

To be continued… 


	10. Christmas, Yule, Whatever th

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**Chapter 10: Christmas, Yule, Whatever the Name – Family Time!**

The month of November brought with it a stormy, cold weather. Gone were such days as those of the Quidditch match, where the rays of the sun would make the colourful autumn leaves sparkle with the light dew that clung to them in the colder weather. More and more the students of Hogwarts opted for inside activities in their free time, rather than to shiver in the chilling windstorms that would sweep through the grounds.

On such a cold day Harry sat in front of the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room, staring at the flames, but not really seeing them. He felt very alone. Both his friends seemed to have abandoned him in favour of the other sex. Hermione made excuse after excuse to be with Regis Niemi, but Harry seemed to be the only one to take note of her absence. Ron was too busy living out his dream of fame. After the match he seemed to have a different girlfriend every day and they all hung on his arm as if they never wanted to let go. Harry wondered about his friend's actions and he found he was rather disturbed by them. Thus as Harry sat there, he wondered if he should talk to Ron about it. Sighing, he picked up a book, the matter decided in his mind.

One morning while preparing for the day Harry decided to talk to Ron about his playboy-like behaviour. He accosted his friend in the bathroom after Ron finished 'shaving'.

"Ron, why do you keep changing girlfriends?" Harry asked after he brushed his teeth.

"'Cause it's fun!" grinned the red-head boy.

"Fun? But you're only with them for a day," the other boy furrowed his brows.

"Yes, however, what a day!" he wiggled his brows in answer.

Harry frowned, then suddenly understood. Ron was just using those girls for sex! They didn't mean much to him, just a few moments of pleasure. No wonder he always seemed to arrive to their dormitory well after curfew. It occurred to Harry then that he could be doing the same thing. Probably girls would sleep just as easily with him as they did with Ron. He recalled last year, when so many of them wanted to go to the Yule Ball with him. However, Harry knew that he could never have casual sex with them. He felt that when he did it with a girl he would have to be in love with her. For now, Isabelle was the only person he could have slept with. Everyone else would be just a meaningless encounter and he was certain that that wasn't his style.

"Ron, don't you think you're hurting those girls by leaving them?" he asked, tentatively as to not accuse his friend of anything.

"Hurt them?" Ron clearly didn't understand what Harry was saying. "Why would I? They all want me. They want to be with me. I never promise them anything."

At that point Harry knew that Ron was a very different person when it came to relationships. Still, he thought that perhaps he could reason with the other boy.

"I would never do that. I think that when a girl sleeps with you, she expects more from you than to leave her the next day."

"I never tell them that I wouldn't." Ron was clearly getting agitated by now with the direction the conversation was going. "Harry, are you jealous of me?" he accused.

"No, I'm not jealous. I'm just trying to see their side," Harry wanted to correct his friend.

"Well I think you are jealous of my fame, Harry. You were always the one in the centre of things and now I am. I bet you were doing the same thing, you just kept it quieter so that you could keep you Saint Potter image. It was time that I got some of the attention myself and I'm not going to hide it. So there!" with these words Ron turned and stormed out of the bathroom. Harry was staring after him, mouth agape. He had angered Ron and he couldn't really understand why. Hanging his head, he went out of the bathroom as well, wondering if he could convince his friend of his real intentions. However, when he went outside, the red-head was already gone.

After the incident Ron seemed to avoid Harry. No matter how much the raven-haired boy tried, he could not get his friend to talk again about the matter, thus he felt shut out, alone. Since he couldn't do anything about the matter, he concentrated on Isabelle.

Harry decided to write more letters to Isabelle. He almost wrote one every day, but his only problem was how to get them to her.

One day, when he passed by her desk after class, he realized that he could put his wandless magic to some good use. So as he passed by, e made her book fall off the table. Being a gentleman, he quickly bent to get it for her, along with apologizing, and slipped his letter among the pages. After this, he left the room.

What he wrote about were not just his feelings for her, but also everyday happenings that he wanted to tell about to her. He finished every one of his letters with pleading to her to write to him, or resume their meetings, but she never did either. He missed her greatly. So, he repeated his delivery trick every day, refusing to give up on her.

Harry was making progress with wandless magic. He was able to do more things, to Oya's great pleasure. In fact, he found that he got better and better at magic in general.

His teachers were greatly impressed that suddenly he would do new spells only after the first few tries. He was surprised as well. What Harry realized was that thanks to Oya's training he just got a better general understanding of how magic actually worked. So by the end of November, he was doing so well that Oya decided to take their private lessons to the next level: "Harry, you've been doing very well," she told him one Friday evening. "I think we can take the next step. So, from now on, you'll learn mind magic."

"Mind magic?"

"Yes. Meaning, you won't be allowed to use your hands either."

Harry stared at her.

"But… Aunt Oya, if I can't use my hand, what should I channel my magic with?" he blurted out what occurred to him.

"Your whole body, Harry. Hand magic was just a way for you to better feel your magic at a conscious level," she explained.

"But what world this be good for?"

"Have you ever been tied down?" she asked, obviously knowing the answer already. He remembered all too well.

"Last year, Voldemort tied me down to take my blood. I was also petrified when Pettigrew killed Cedric," he spoke with such sorrow in his voice that Oya pulled him into an embrace. He let her and was glad for the comforting she offered.

"If you learn to only use your mind as a tool for working your magic, then nothing like that will step you again," she said, in a comforting way.

Harry contemplated her words and suddenly wished he could have leaned mind magic a year before. That way, perhaps Cedric would still be alive and they wouldn't have a war looming ahead of them.

"All right. I will put as much effort to becoming adept at mind magic as possible," he told her.

Oya suddenly kissed his cheek and pulled back a little.

"I'm so proud of you, Harry!" she exclaimed. "You'll learn fast, I'm sure. Next time you meet Voldemort, he'll be sorry he ever took you on." She smiled with optimism. "Now, let's start with a familiar exercise, just a bit differently."

She released him and walked to her desk. Oya pulled a drawer open and took out a rope, to Harry's surprise. He looked at her with the obvious question written all over his face.

"I'll tie your hands back, so you won't be tempted to use them," she informed him.

Harry just nodded and put his hands together behind his back. The thought did make him uneasy, but he forced himself to relax and trust his aunt. She moved behind him and he couldn't help flinching at the first touch of the rope.

"Oh, Harry I wanted to ask you. Would you like to spend Christmas here with me? You could come to my rooms and spend some family time with me," she said, with a bit of nervousness. "But if you have other plans, …that's good, too."

"No!" he replied enthusiastically. "It would be great!"

"Really?" She smiled at him. "We'll have fun."

"I've never seen where the teachers live," Harry informed her.

"Oh, actually, the living quarters always open from the office," she said and moved in front of Harry after she finished tying his hands. "My rooms are through that door," Oya pointed at the one in the corner. "There are two rooms. One living room and a bedroom. It's quite nice, she explained. Well, now that I've tied you up Harry, you'll have to do the very first thing that you've learned of hand magic. Meaning, move the pillow with your thoughts," she gestured towards the ones on the couch.

Harry contemplated the pillow. Suddenly, he had no idea, how he'd done magic with his hands. He made a move to scratch his head, when his unconscious movement was halted by the rope around his wrists. He took a few steps to be nearer the pillow. Gazing at it, he could finally recall how he had moved it with hand-magic. He remembered stretching out his magic towards it. At that very moment, he became aware of tingling sensation all over his body. Shutting his eyes, he concentrated on to. It was a kind of a warmth, he tried to name it, but in actual fact that was quite impossible. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked a Oya, who had a strange expression on her face. She was staring with wide eyes. Harry just ignored her for the moment and instead focused on his target, the pillow. He reached out with the warmth and felt a thread of it leave his body. It became a third hand for him and he picked up the pillow with his new hand. It rose in the air and then Harry noticed for the first time the shimmering purple thread that came at from his body and formed a hand at the end that held the pillow. He had never seen anything like it. The purple thing wasn't just a thread. In fact, as he examined it a bit more closely, he realized that it seemed to be made out of liquid. For the first time since starting his task, he spoke to Oya:

"Hmm, you see the purple thing too?" He looked at her and it was a good thing, because she only nodded. "What is it?" Harry asked.

"It's the magic within you," she started to explain. "You see, everything has an aura. Magical people have some purple in their aura. The more the purple, the stronger the magic. Through training, the purple can grow."

"Then you can see auras?" he inquired.

"Yes. Since you can see the purple thread, can you see my aura?"

Harry tried to see the same liquid around Oya, but couldn't. So he shook his head.

"That's all right. It took me about a year of trying. It comes to you gradually. You see your own and that's great progress. Now, look at yourself."

Harry looked down and saw purple glow around himself with little pecks of green.

"I'm almost all purple," he noted.

"Yes Harry. You have been since you picked up the pillow. Apparently, the act advanced your magic to such a degree."

Harry realized than that he was still holding the pillow up. He let go suddenly and it fell back on the catch. He looked down at himself again and noted that his aura was less purple and more green.

"What happened?" he asked upon the change.

"The colour of a person's aura constantly changes. Magical people and beings always have some purple in it, but otherwise it's determined by the mood and health, and some other things. Actually, once you see other people's auras, you'll be able to distinguish animagi easily."

"Really?" Harry was astonished at the information. He was suddenly even more interested in auras. "How?"

"Well, when a person becomes his or her animal form that requires a constant use of magic. You should be able to tell from this what to look for."

"Hmm." he thought about it. His aunt was back in her teaching ode. If a person is using his magic, he should have a… very purple aura!"

Oya smiled at that.

"Correct Harry! An ordinary magical animal on the other hand would only have little purple. Now, I think we have discussed auras enough. You should practice trying to see auras whenever you can. Some day it'll simply happen. Let's practice mind-magic a bit more. I hope your hands aren't in pain."

"No, Aunt Oya," Harry assured her.

The following weeks seemed to crawl by for Harry. He gladly told his friends that for a change he didn't mind them not staying at Hogwarts. After all, the families felt the need to be together even if Voldemort was still staying low. No matter how slowly time passed, the day when the others left still arrived.

Harry stood in the Common Room with some other members of Gryffindor House as he waited for his friends to come down with their trunks. He had already given them his presents so that Hedwig wouldn't have to fly in the snowy winter weather. Even as Harry looked at the large windows he could see the large flakes gently drift downwards in the light breeze. No, he couldn't let her out, she may have been a snow-owl, but that didn't mean she enjoyed snow-storms.

The arrival of several students broke him out of his reverie. He noticed Harry first, whose trunk floated behind her. She smiled up at him and headed in his direction.

That was when Harry noticed that behind her Isabelle was also leaving the staircase. He was started to see that she looked even paler than usual; her dark eyes were restlessly darting around the room. The black orbs finally settled on him capturing his green ones and holding them. He read so many emotions in her eyes as they locked together, as never before. He was truck by pain, sadness, longing and intense fear. Watching her, he started to notice the liquid of her aura swirling around her. First it was colourless and then even those were revealed to Harry. She did have some purple in it, but mostly it was orange. He made a mental note to ask Oya, what that meant, but he already had an idea. He was startled when suddenly Harry kissed him on the cheek, and he tore his gaze from the object of his affection, but before he did so, he noticed a look of surprise from her.

"Merry Christmas Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "Merry Christmas. Hermione. You're ready to go?" he inquired.

"Yes. Are you sure you'll be ok here?" I mean, sure, Prof. Potter is your aunt, but she was a Death Eater and there are still mysteries around her, "this point Hermione lowered her voice to make sure that only Harry heard her." Like Ares, or how come she had a child with Snape?"

"Hermione, I already have an idea about the later question. She once said that Voldemort played match-maker to his Death Eaters. Perhaps that's what happened, Harry suggested.

"Good theory, Harry!" she praised. "Well, at least while you stay here, you could try to find at as much about Ares as possible."

Ron chose that moment to arrive. He dragged his trunk behind him and it made a loud noise that caused everyone to stare at him. As he stopped, several girls immediately approached him. They all started giving him packages and wishing 'Merry Christmas', Harry and Hermione just stare at the scene, amazed. After they gave him hugs and kisses, they dispersed. Ron then sauntered over to his friends and deposited his gifts on the couch. Opening his trunk, he deposited the packages into it and only once he finished, did he look up at Harry and Hermione.

"What?" he asked, noticing their stares.

"Who are all those girls?" Hermione inquired.

"Oh, my fan club," Ron told them nonchalantly.

Harry and Hermione were clearly startled at this news. Harry tried to remember when a fan club formed around Ron. He couldn't. He realized that he had been a bad friend. He had been so caught up in his own life, especially Isabelle, that he had hardly paid any attention to his friends' lives.

Harry woke up early on Christmas morning. He was giddy with excitement at the prospect of his first real family Xmas. At least, the first one he could remember. Yesterday evening he had dinner in the Great Hall as usual. The professors were there, but only five other students all from Hufflepuff. Harry didn't know any of them, because they were all below him and so they chatted among themselves. As usual when there were only so few people staying at Hogwarts, there was only one smaller table set.

Harry didn't mind though. He sat between Professor Dumbledore and his Aunt Oya. They talked about all sorts of things, but only happy ones. Quidditch, lessons, no Voldemort at all. Aunt Oya told funny stories about Xmases with Harry's dad when they were little. Harry especially liked the one in which Oya gave a prank gift to James. First of all she packed the small object into many boxes, all wrapped in paper. It took James abort half an hour to reach the actual gift. By then he was thoroughly frustrated and reached into the smallest box without looking at its contents. He quickly pulled his hand back, with a loud yelp of pain. He clutched one of his fingers with a grimace, informing his on-looking family about the fact that something had bit his hand. He glazed at his sister, who was goggling madly at his predicament. Cautiously he peered inside the box that was small enough to fit into his palm. His eyes widened and shorted that there was a lion in it. It was actually an animated lion statue that was prowling inside its box and snapping its yaws angrily. In the end James did like the gift and even built a small landscape for it in one of he bigger boxes. Oya had no idea what had happened to it, but James still had it when they parted ways.

After this Harry told his own story of an enchanted small statue. He still had the miniature Hungarian Horntail. It was currently residing in his trunk as it reminded him of the Tournament and that of Cedric and he really didn't want to think along those lines. It did occur to him to simply get rid of the little dragon, but he did like it and hoped for a time when he could bare to look at it. However, the story of how he got the golden egg was a good one and Aunt Oya listened to it with interest. She expressed her regret at not having had the chance to see it.

All these happy memories were fresh in his mind as he finished out his present to his aunt from the trunk on Xmas morning. It hadn't been easy to find a good gift for her. In the end he decided to ask Hermione to recommend something, being a girl and all. It was one of the rare occasions when they really talked. Nowadays the three friends rarely just spent time together. Ron was busy trying to date every available girl who wasn't ugly or a Slytherin in Hogwarts. Being a Quidditch hero sure had its benefits and he seemed to be snagging a different girl in a different place every week. He was also unavailable. When she wasn't revising for OWLS and nagging Harry to join her in Ron's absence, she disappeared somewhere probably to be with Regis Niemi.

Harry thus spent most of his time alone. Thinking back to the past months Harry did feel lonely at times, but he decided to take Hermione's advice a revise. He was determined to become an Auror after graduation, he couldn't think of a line of career that would better suit him. After all, he was practically doing it already. They got some leaflets in November that told them what OWLs and NEWTs they need for careers, so he had quite an amount of studying to do in the required subjects. Among them were Potions, so he doubled his efforts in that subject. All the studying was paying off as well as he got praised more and lost less house points in Potions classes, much to Snape's distaste. Another up side of it was that it kept his mind off Isabelle. Of course, during class, it didn't help that Snape kept praising Isabelle for her excellent skills.

The tap finally came on his window and he quickly got his gift for Oya. He almost ran out of the tower, straight for Oya's office. He was almost there, when Oya opened the door. He stopped in front of her and took in her outfit. She ressed for Xmas, that was notable. She wore a deep crimson dress, the hem of which was almost sweeping dark green robe. Because it was sleeveless, it let the widening sleeve of the crimson dress to dominate the look. Her long blonde hair was wavy and she wore more jewellery than he had ever seen her. In one word she was beautiful and Harry wondered if it was really for the occasion, or she had some different goal with it. She smiled at him brightly.

"Good morning Harry! Merry Christmas! Come, follow me," she motioned him in and. Harry followed.

They entered the office and he found a door open inside it. She lead him inside and he found himself in a living-room. There was a huge fireplace not far from the door on the same wall. A gentle fire was merrily cracking in it, warming hearts as well as bodies. Besides it in the corner stood a huge tree. It was decorated with twinkling golden stars mostly and around it small fairies seemed to be flying in colourful dresses. They carried tiny bells that jingled at odd times. Under the tree Harry could see many packages waiting to be opened. In the middle of the room a sitting area was created. A wide green sofa with many pillows dominated it, with matching arm-chains on both sides. A low tale was in front of it, on which their breakfast was laid out. There was a pot of some liquid, judging by the fragrance in the air it was hot chocolate. Three cups stood beside it, just waiting to be filled. The table was otherwise laden with food, mostly sweet things. On one plate chocolate frogs waited in their boxes to be lead out and cause havoc. On another a chocolate cake glistened in the light, showing off its brown layer, tantalizing the occupants of the room. Of course the other contents of the table were not any less mouth-watering, and Harry noticed that there were also three plates. Harry wondered who the third person was. While he was taking in the various other decorations and furnishings of the room, Oya stood to the side, waiting for him to finish. When his gaze settled on her, she spoke to him.

"Would you close the door please?" she asked sweetly. "Then put the package under the tree."

He did as she asked and then she walked over to another door opening from the main room. She slowly opened it, grinning by them. Harry gasped as none other, than his godfather, Sirius Black walked out. He more the biggest mile on his face that Harry had ever seen. He wore brand new robes, his hair was slacked at Harry and Harry ran over to him and embraced the dark-haired man.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to spend Xmas with you," Sirius informed his godson, returning his hug. Harry let him go and kept smiling, unable to stop. This was turning out to be the best Xmas he has ever had.

"Why don't you open your presents now?" Aunt Oya suggested, gesturing towards the pile under the tree.

Harry went to them and Oya sat down on the couch with Sirius. They smiled at each other, Harry noted as he kneeled besides the shiningly wrapped packages. He quickly found Mrs. Weasley's and unwrapped it. The usual jumper was crimson this time with a golden "H" in the middle. He put it on, as usual.

"Who's that from, Harry?" Sirius enquired.

"Mrs. Weasley," he answered.

"She sends me a jumper every year. She makes it. In fact, she makes one for all her children."

"I see. So it's as if you're one of the family, eh?" Sirius observed. "I remember Molly Weasley. Fine woman. I hope some day I can thank he for being so good to you."

Harry smiled at that and reached for a package from Ron. It was a very small package and Harry quickly unwrapped it. Inside the box he found a whistle. He quirked an eyebrow at that. He held up the present so the two adults could see it as well.

"A whistle?" Ron probably got it for Quidditch, "Harry suggested and quickly blew it, looking at Oya and Sirius. He noticed that when he did so, they both seemed to freeze in place for a moment.

"It's a magical whistle," Sirius told him, once he could move. "For about two seconds everyone who hears it gets frozen in time, except the one who blew it. It is very useful for Quidditch. I suggest you keep it with you. You never know when it could be useful."

"You're right, Sirius." Harry turned to have a look at his next gift, after pocketing the whistle. He did think of putting it around his neck, but he still kept Sirius' necklace there under his clothes.

He chose to look at Hermione's gift next. It was a book as usual. The title was "Grindenwald and Hitler". Hermione had probably remembered that Harry had expressed an interest in Word War II history. He was happy abut the book and couldn't wait to read it. He showed this to the adult as well and Oya told him that she had read the book and it was very good.

Harry had saved the presents of those in the room last. He started with the one labelled "Aunt Oya". It was a box, not wrapped, only a bow around it in Gryffindor colours. On the card it also said "Handle with care", so he gingerly put the box in front of him and untied the bow. After that he slowly raised the lid. Inside he found a small egg nestled in soft crimson velvet. Harry looked up questioningly at his aunt as he situated himself in a way as to face Oya and Sirius.

"It's a dragon-snake egg," she informed him.

"Dragon-snake?" Harry had never even heard of such creatures.

His aunt realized that Harry knew nothing about such creatures. She stood up and went over to one of the book cases lining the walls. She looked around for a bit and then took down a slim book.

"Here, you can have this," she said as she walked over to him and handed him the book. "You'd better close the box, Harry, I will hatch in a few days and the change in temperature is not good for it. I charmed the box, so it will always be warm enough."

"Thank you," Harry said as he quickly closed the box. Then he looked at the book. It was titled "Dragon-Snakes – All you need to know". He smiled at the wording and opened it. Inside he found a wizarding photo of a black snake with green markings above his eyes and two black dragon–wings. It flew around in erratic patterns, its body twisting with each turn. Harry was awed at owning such a creature. A thought occurred to him that he just had to ask. "Aunt Oya, will I be able to talk to it in Parselgongue?" he looked at her as he put down the book besides the box.

"Of course, Harry. That's why I got one for you. I thought that since you can speak it, you should do something with it. Also, dragon-snakes are very smart creatures. I remember that Voldemort often used snakes for different purposes, like spies. You could use your dragon-snake in a similar fashion," she explained.

"But that's what Voldemort does…" Harry argued.

"Just because he does it, it doesn't mean that it's wrong. It's a tactic. You know how much I like to study Muggle World War II. On it both sides they used spies. In fact, during the last war with Voldemort we used them. Serena and Severus…" as she mentioned these names, her voice took on a distant quality and she gazed over at Sirius, who was sitting next to her quietly.

Harry looked at him as well. He was staring at his hands with a pain in his eyes and his shoulders were slumped. That was when Harry remembered where he had heard the name 'Serena' before Isabelle had mentioned it once after she had extra potions with Snape.

"Serena Snape?" he asked out loud.

Sirius looked up at this, startled.

"I didn't know you've heard of her," Oya told Harry.

"Just once I know she was Snape's sister. I didn't know she was a spy too. What happened to her?" his curiosity was sparked now.

"She was found out," Sirius spoke up, startling the occupants of the room. His voice was hoarse, as if he was going to start to cry at any moment. "She was a Death Eater, but turned against them. Malfoy discovered that she was working for us. They killed her…" his voice choked at that moment and as a response Oya put a comforting hand on his arm. Their eyes meet for a brief second and Harry could see something flicker between them. Mostly it was concern, but also understanding and affection. "I'd better tell you the whole story, since I've already started," Sirius said.

"You don't have to…" Harry interrupted.

"No, you must be curious about it. In a way, I feel… I need to talk about it. Serena was supposed to spy for Voldemort. I knew her from school, though very superficially. She was Snape's sister, a Slytherin and two years bellow me. She approached me in a pub I was frequenting at the time. Her orders were to go out with me and gather as much information as possible. Instead, first she made sure that I was on the side of the Light. Just in case I was a spy as well and the whole task was a test of her loyalty. Then she revealed it all to me. She said she wanted to be on the side of the Light as well; It was her father that made her join in the first place and she wanted out. I talked it over with Dumbledore and we thought that she would be the most useful as spy, since she was in the Inner Circle. Serena readily agreed. We fed bits of truth and large pieces of false information To Voldemort through her. I was going to be a father. It was the happiest day of my life, "he stopped and seemed to travel far back into the post. It took him some time until he was able to continue. "She was close to giving birth when Lucius Malfoy revealed that she was a spy."

"I was there," Oya spoke up. "Voldemort called together a meeting. We stood around him in a circle. Malfoy stepped foreword and told us about Serena being a spy. I was shocked, because she was my… friend. Voldemort and Malfoy took her away then. She couldn't apparate away, because each meeting began with an anti-apparation spell. Her body was found a month later. The strange thing was that when they observed her body, it seemed that she had given birth not long before she was killed. We never knew what happened to the baby," she finished and they all fell silent for a bit.

Harry could see how much the story pained Sirius and he knew that he should be comforted somehow. Oya seemed o come to the same conclusion as she quickly embraced the man in a hug and held him for a few minutes, absent-mindedly running a hand through his shoulder-length black hair. In return, he buried his head in her shoulder. Harry felt that he was intruding on a very private moment and kept silent. They slowly parted and their eyes locked. Both seemed to be filled with pain, probably at the loss of someone they both knew and loved. Oya and Sirius looked over at Harry, a bit startled to realize that he was still in the room.

"Sorry, Harry," Sirius apologized.

"It's all right," Harry replied.

"Why don't you open Sirius' present?" Oya suggested and Sirius smiled encouragingly a him.

"All right," with those words Harry reached over to his last present. When he held the medium-sized package in his hand, it was quite clear that it was a book. He was getting lots of books this year, but he didn't mind really. He unwrapped the bit clumsily done package and found a dark crimson book with gold lettering on it. He read the cover, it said '50 Most Beautiful Wizarding Love Poetry'. Harry looked up at Sirius questioningly.

"Well, I'd thought it would help you with the ladies. Just read it through. You could even memorize a couple of verses and say them to girls when you see them fit. It always helped me with my dating, "Sirius grinned at that. Harry, however, noticed Oya not being too happy about what the man was saying.

"Thank you," Harry said and put the book among the others. He didn't know if the book would indeed help him.

"Let's have a very unhealthy breakfast of chocolate cake and hot chocolate!" Oya suggested. Harry nodded at that and with a large grin sat in one of the armchairs, closest to the couch. Oya rose and put one slice of cake on a plate. The house-elves had already taken care of the slicing. The plate Oya handed to Harry and then pared him a cup of steaming not chocolate and put it in front of him on the coffee-table, then repeated the process with Sirius. Both males nodded their thanks to her, and began eating. For a while the trio sat in silence, when Sirius spoke up:

"So, Harry, do you have a girlfriend yet?"

Harry was just drinking from his cup when the older man asked his question and choked on his hot chocolate. He quickly put the delicate china down, while he was coughing in a desperate attempt to not suffocate. Oya even had to put him on the back to relieve the tension.

"Sorry, Harry," Sirius said at seeing the display in front of him. "I didn't know my question would be the death of you," he grinned. "But I'd still like to know the answer."

"Well," Harry began, once he got control over his lungs again. "No, not really."

"Your answer makes me suspect you have your eyes on someone," he narrowed his eyes on his grandson.

Harry blushed at that.

"I do…"

"Then what's the problem?!" Sirius exclaimed. "You're a handsome boy, famous to boot. Perhaps you don't know how to approach her?" He looked at the boy expectantly.

"It's not that," Harry began, his voice turning sad, eyes falling on his hands. "The problem is that… her name is Isabelle Malfoy." Sirius was taken aback at that.

"You fancy a Malfoy!" he was outraged.

Harry winced at his tone.

"Not fancy… I love her," he admitted quietly.

Sirius sat back, contemplating the boy in front of him. He studied his pose and didn't speak for awhile. When the silence just stretched on, Harry looked up and meet Sirius' eyes. The man was still mulling over the information he had heard. Then the boy looked at Oya. She, of course, had already known about it and held understanding in her gaze.

"Sirius, I've already known about this," she informed the man sitting beside her and turned to him, placing a hand on his knee. "You see, they have been friends for a while. Then Harry fell in love. She told him a couple of months ago that Lucius had arranged a marriage for her that will take place over the summer. At this Harry told her about his feelings and she turned him down and broke all contact with him," Oya updated Sirius, who had turned his attention to the woman.

"I have been writing love letters to her and sneaking them into her bag," Harry completed the story. "I got no reply."

Sirius was still silent. All eyes were on him, but he didn't shy away from them.

"She asked you to leave her alone?" he asked for clarification.

"Yes," Harry answered. "But when I kissed her, she returned it. However, kissing did seem to scare her."

"Well, that's understand able," Sirius said.

Harry looked at his godfather with a puzzled expression. Seeing this, Sirius decided to elaborate.

"The Malfoys are a very traditional Wizarding family. Oya doesn't really know what those are like, because the Potters were a bit more modern. However, my family was just like the Malfoys. While I had no sisters, just a brother, I am still very much aware of what is required of pureblood girls. They have to marry pureblood wizards of their father's choosing and produce as many offsprings as possible. Even if she returned your feelings, she would never be allowed to act by them. She is bound by the laws of the Wizarding World to her father until she's 17," Sirius finished his monologue.

Harry sat contemplating what he had heard. Oya meanwhile refilled his cup and handed it to him. As the boy drank down the warm hot chocolate, the sweet liquid soothed the ache that was becoming stronger in his heart.

"I really don't have a chance, do I?" he looked at the two adults as if seeking denial, but all he got were confirmatory nods. With a sigh, he went on: "No matter what I do, she will marry that man and after June, I'll never see Isabelle again," he nearly choked as tears were threatening to spill from his eyes. To cover it, he drank deeply from his cup.

"Harry, you're only fifteen. You still have your whole life ahead of you. You'll see, soon enough, you'll fall in love with someone else," Sirius told him.

"It's not like that," Harry informed his godfather." I can imagine my whole life with her. I had a vivid dream about us having a child and I'm so happy in that dream! I've never, ever felt so happy in all my life as in that dream!" Harry stopped. He realized he was shorting and tears were streaming down his face. He whipped them off and started speaking again in a normal tone after forcing himself to calm down a bit by taking deep gulps of air. "I know I'm only fifteen, but I don't feel like it. I've been through so much. I've faced Voldemort three times in these past years and I know he won't stop coming after me until I'm dead. I don't know if I can defeat him, but I'm going to try. I'm facing these things and I don't feel young. I know that Voldemort is staying low now, but soon he's going to start killing. I'm already responsible for the death of one person. Now, I'm going to be responsible for everyone whom that maniac kills from now on, until I defeat him. I know that's my job. I have no idea why, but it is. I am going to do it. So you see, I'm not a child anymore. I can't be. I'm in love with Isabelle. It won't pass. She's the kindest, the sweetest and the most beautiful person I know. She's intelligent. Sometimes she's also very fragile, and then I only want to take her into my arms and protect her from all harm. These past months without her have been hell. I feel like a part of me is missing. I must find a way to keep her from getting married to that man. I don't know how I can go on fighting if I loose her," Harry finished, looking at his godfather and aunt.

"That does sound very serious," Sirius told him, scratching his chin that was smooth as he had shaved off all of his beard and moustache. "I wish I could think of a way to help you, but I can't. I will try to come up with something, though."

"How long are you staying here?" Harry pointed the question at Sirius.

"Until New Year's Day. So we can celebrate together," he smiled. "Now, I believe you've opened all of your presents, but we didn't open any of ours," Sirius tried to break the sombre mood.

"That's right!" Harry exclaimed. "But I haven't brought up your present yet!" with this Harry jumped up and bolted for the door. He hoped that when he came back, they could talk about much happier subjects.

To be continued… 


End file.
